Las Vidas de los Corinthos II
by Cara Mia
Summary: ON HIATUS Part II of Las Vidas de los Corinthos: Jason and Elizabeth... their story.
1. Chapter 1

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos II: Chapter 1  
  
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.. they belong to the big- wigged powersuits over at ABC, who pay writers that all Liason and Sexis fans want to see shot, drawn and quartered! No profit is being made from this story. it all goes into a fund to do the above serious bodily harm, :^D  
  
A/N: It's me again, back for part two. Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long. If this is the first time you're reading this, I suggest you go find Part I to read, just so you can get a general gist of what's going on. Please read the initial summary:  
  
Summary: This part is set two and a half months after the final chapter of Part 1. Sonny and Alexis are about to get married (they are planning for a ceremony on the island) and are living with their younger daughter in a newly decorated Penthouse back in PC. After her recovery, Elizabeth stuck around long enough to see them settle in as a family before fleeing to New York again. She and Jason did not have another interlude like they did in the hospital because Courtney had come back home with Michael. Although physically healed from her attack, Liz still has to deal with the emotional demons and, unlike after her rape, she has no knight in shining armor to save her from distress. The last time Jason saw Liz was Sonny and Alexis's housewarming. with Courtney. Jason finds Liz sitting in a dark corner of the balcony away from the party. They talk and at the end of it all they are about to kiss when Courtney walks out and interrupts. Liz leaves for home the next day and he is, of course, hopelessly confused.. This is their story.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
New York City  
  
She sat immersed in the inky darkness for the fifth straight night since she'd dragged herself into her studio apartment on the Upper East Side of New York City. She sat there, quiet as a mouse, still as a statue on her overstuffed couch in the corner by the enormous picture window overlooking the city. If she'd had any visitors, they would have thought she was dead. But of course she didn't have any visitors, because she hadn't ventured from her apartment since returning. hadn't moved from that spot in two days except to urinate and drink some water so she wouldn't pass out from dehydration.  
  
This waif. this wisp of a girl that was Elizabeth Corinthos, yet not, blended so perfectly in the shadows. submersing herself in some insane and subconscious effort to be invisible. She would slay the demons of the night and of her dreams by turning on every single light throughout the apartment.if she had the strength to move.  
  
But she didn't. shadows can't do that. And that's what she had become - a shadow. If she could have seen herself in a mirror, she would have shrunk from her own reflection in terror. In fact she had, less than three hours ago, when the weight of her bladder sent her scurrying across the hardwood floors in search of the bathroom. She sat on the toilet, with barely enough energy to push herself to her feet or button up her jeans.  
  
It wasn't near dark yet, and though she made a supreme effort not to look at herself in the mirror, she caught a flash of scarlet, looking painfully cheerful in her world of grey and, as if magnetically pulled, she felt her gaze lifting to the mirror above the sink. If she'd had a weapon, she would have smash the looking glass into a thousand splinters, all in an effort to destroy this stranger looking back at her.  
  
Her long silky chocolate curls had been butchered into a harsh crew cut of some sorts, her skin was pale and lifeless, stretched taut against the bones of her too-thin face. Her eyes were like huge blue saucers too big. too wide to look remotely human, the violet smudges like half moons under her eyes. To say she had lost weight would have been a gross understatement. Her formerly snug jeans and tops hung on her now bony, angular frame. Her hip bones jutted forward, and under her shirts, her ribcage and spinal column were starkly pronounced. She looked like a famine victim. She wasn't just starved for food. she was starved for affection.  
  
She was starved for the capacity to feel *something*. *anything* but fear. God knows she felt enough of that. The only time she had ever felt so afraid had been directly after her rape. But even then she'd had her prince, her knight in shining armour: Lucky Spencer. He had helped her through her pain, helped her to love and feel safe again after her innocence had been snatched away from her.  
  
Elizabeth scowled and left the bathroom in a rush. She had headed back to her sanctuary in the corner. Past unopened letters, paints, pastels and brushes beside her easels, past unopened suitcases still perched in the middle of the open-plan apartment, back to her couch where she blocked images of the stranger she had become, where she absentmindedly watched the sunset over New York bathing the city in bright vibrant reds and oranges and golds; colours she would have been fascinated by before, but now didn't have the slightest care for. She watched darkness descend again, but not just on the city, but on her heart as well.  
  
She sat immersed in the darkness for the fifth straight night since she'd dragged herself home. Alone.. A Greek line of poetry came to mind as the proud vestige of her soul struggled to rear its head in the swirling darkness. It was dampened, gutted by her anger and pain. scurrying away like an injured puppy. Elizabeth Corinthos wasn't ready to be saved. not yet.  
  
The line reverberated throughout her thoughts, over and over and over again until it melded into one strange litany that brought the first set of tears she had shed since that night to her eyes : Lypi panta.. Agapi, elpizo, eirini oudepote.  
  
TBC.  
  
A/N: I guess you can tell Part 2 will have a much darker atmosphere than Part 1. The final line of the chapter is actually something I made up myself and translated into my terrible Greek. It means: Pain always..Love, hope, peace never. I hope you like the chapter, please R&R and tell me what you thought.  
  
Cara 


	2. Chapter 2

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos II: Chapter 2  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: Thanks for your comments. I'm glad you liked the story so far. I apologise for the delay. I was away from home for one thing, and second of all, I had some serious writers block. I must have started this chapter like 3 times before I got the finished product out. I hope you like it; it was hard enough to write.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Port Charles, New York, (the same day)  
  
Three hundred miles away, Alexis Davis frowned as she set the receiver back on the hook.  
  
"That's strange," she muttered.  
  
"What? What's wrong, corazon?"  
  
Alexis shrugged, running a hand through her loose chestnut mane, the burnished gold and reds of the sunset lighting her hair on fire as it streamed through the open drapes at the window. "That's the third time I've called Elizabeth for the day, and there's still no answer."  
  
Sonny frowned as well, but kissed his beautiful fiancée on her lips. "Don't worry, she's probably catching up with some friends."  
  
Alexis wanted to deny that - something was not quite right. With a mother's instinct she knew it, but she didn't want to voice her opinions just yet. She smiled and followed Sonny to the dining-room table where he had just set down a bottle of wine. "What's for dinner?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
At the tinkling of the tiny bell over the door, Jason Morgan turned to see his fiancée shrugging on her coat as she walked toward him.  
  
"Hi, honey," she greeted, pecking him on the lips.  
  
Jason gifted her with one of his customary half-grins and tucked an errant lock of blonde hair behind her ear.  
  
"Isn't it beautiful?" Courtney asked, coming to stand in front of him, wrapping his arms around her, wallowing in his warmth.  
  
She was speaking about the sunset. They stood watching it together as the sun descended as a great ball of fire on the horizon lighting the sky with gold and red and orange, colours too vibrant, too vivid for words to give justice to. Beautiful seemed too simple to encompass the sight - it was awe- inspiring. For some inexplicable reason, Jason could feel a hard lump of emotion sticking in his throat.  
  
"Yes," he replied huskily, hugging Courtney to him tightly. "It sure is."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
New York City (one day later)  
  
Of their own volition Elizabeth's eyes snapped open, and she was almost blinded by the intensity of the sun, shining high overhead. Sometime during the night, she had crawled from her couch onto the hardwood floor, where she sat with her knees drawn to her chest, watching the sparkling lights of the city below.  
  
Her vision blurred from lack of sleep, food and water, the lights had spun and swirled on their blanket of black, melding into one continuous colour. They were like tiny beacons, beckoning her toward them, but Liz had neither the strength nor the inclination to bother.  
  
Now the sky was a brilliant bright blue and, though she could not hear the cacophony of the busy city so far below her, she could see the people, small as ants, rushing about with their lives.  
  
She had a life too; somewhere inside her she had the will to start over, just not now.  
  
Her gaze swept upwards, past faraway billboards and neon signs and church steeples and high-rise hotels and skyscrapers, to the brilliant cerulean blue of the sky where the yellow-white orb of the sky shone. The only attempt she made to shield her eyes was to shade them with her hand. But she couldn't look away. She liked the emptiness of the sky. Free from smog or power lines. Empty. Empty. Empty. Just like her.  
  
Just then, her eyes caught sight of something that dared to intrude on the solitude of the deep blue. As though mesmerized, she watched a black balloon drift higher and higher as if searching for the heavens. As it bobbed and weaved in the wind so high, Liz followed it fascinated.  
  
She slowly trudged to her feet, pressing herself against the glass as the wind pushed the black balloon closer to her building. When it was no more than twenty feet from her window, Liz reached out as if to touch it, silently willing it to come closer.  
  
As if hearing her call the balloon drifted closer. Bobbing in the wind, it's beribboned tail fluttering in the wind. **So beautiful** she mouthed as she stared entranced. When it was right outside the window, Liz lifted a tentative hand as though she could touch it. The balloon bobbed and weaved, bobbed and weaved, floating gently on the wind currents.  
  
A tentative smile found it's way to Liz's lips as it bumped into the glass window. She reached like a child to touch it. POP!  
  
The balloon burst. Withering in an instant. The beribboned string all that was left of it, fluttering away from her on the wind.  
  
Liz started to cry.  
  
TBC..  
  
A/N: I know the chapter's kinda short, but I'll try to update a lot sooner than the last time. Please R&R people, I want to know what you think. 


	3. Chapter 3

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos II: Chapter 3  
  
Disclaimer: See chapter 1  
  
A/N: I'm yet again sorry for the delay. Major writer's block yet again! Needless to say, the show has not exactly provided me with any inspiration whatsoever. Indeed, after not watching for a while, after tuning in last week, I was absolutely disgusted by the recent storyline! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it! Those GH writers had carried the show to the dogs, and are in grave danger of losing a most devoted viewer!! BTW, thanks for your comments, I love you readers though I wish the ABC crew (especially those f***ing writers) a trip straight to Purgatory!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
For the first time in months, Jason fell asleep before Courtney. He lay next to her, sheets wrapped around his trim waist, his broad chest expanding with every breath he took. His face was calm and relaxed in repose and he looked faintly like a little boy, his mile-long lashes nestled against the tops of his sculpted, golden cheekbones. He looked so beautiful, and Courtney could feel the familiar tug in her heart as she continued to watch him.  
  
The fatigue that had dogged his body in the past few months was easing with each passing day, and his life and their relationship was slowly returning to normal. 'Normal' being a relative term, of course. When she had first got back to PC from the Caymans with Michael, it had not taken very long to realize things were not all well in the Corinthos family camp. She'd found out Kristina's kidnapping was responsible for their fleeing, Sonny and Alexis were 'together' and Elizabeth was in the hospital!  
  
She'd had been filled in by Marco as neither Sonny nor Jason was to be found when her plane landed at the airport. She'd come back to loft after dropping Michael off at Carly's brownstone, and she decided to wait up to surprise Jason. She waited for what seemed like hours. Indeed it had been five hours she sat on the couch facing the door wishing for her beloved fiancé to walk through those doors, carry her upstairs to their bedroom and make love to her like he would never let her go-after she gave him a good telling off of course!  
  
But if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride, and she fell asleep on the couch, unaware of when he had finally dragged himself over the threshold well after two in the morning. She had been fast asleep and therefore unaware of the long silent moments he had stood over her watching her sleep, his mind in erratic confusion, unsure of what he was feeling as he looked at her.  
  
She had received a most pleasant wake-up call though. In the dark of the night, her eyes had snapped open to feel a heavy weight over her body. She had been alarmed and instinctively was about to scream when she felt the familiarity of the touch. Rough yet gentle-Jason. He had shed her clothing so rapidly, she was amazed at his dexterity and she reached up to caress his face, his body above her, but he grabbed her wrists and manacled them in his grip above her head.  
  
He had proceeded to make love to her so desperately that tears streamed out of her eyes as she held his body in her arms. Her heart bled for the pain she thought he must be going through, all anger gone from her mind as she sought to give him comfort with her body not knowing this was a desperate way for Jason to convince himself that it was right that they were together and he was not in a cold sterile hospital room holding Elizabeth's hand.  
  
When Courtney had woken up the next day, the space in the bed beside her had been empty-Jason was gone. He remained gone for the rest of the day; she could not find him anywhere: the docks, the warehouse, the penthouse, Jake's. It was as if he had disappeared. Once again she waited up for him, only to fall asleep and wake up to find a certain blue-eyed blonde's hands roving her body in the dark.  
  
Jason had never been this closed-mouthed with her in the past before and his new attitude scared her. She had no fear for her physical safety where Jason was concerned - she he would never hurt her. But she harbored a woman's instinct that something was not all well where the two of them were concerned and her suspicions were only confirmed when Monica spoke of the only woman who could make her green with envy.  
  
Flashback:  
  
Courtney was clearing one of the few empty tables left in a crowded Kelly's around lunchtime when she felt a light touch on her shoulder. It had been so unexpected that she had started and whirled around.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, dear," apologized her former mother-in-law, Monica Quartermaine, taking a step back from the startled waitress.  
  
"No," replied Courtney, flushing a little in embarrassment. "You just startled me is all. Shouldn't sneak up on the waitress with a plastic tray full of dishes, you know," she joked feebly. Monica laughed politely. "Is there anything I can do for you?"  
  
"No," explained Monica, adjusting her bag strap on her shoulder. "I was just wondering if you've had a chance to see Elizabeth?" she asked, though she knew the answer was no.  
  
Courtney shook her head guiltily. "No, I haven't. I know it's no excuse," she hurried on, "but I just got back two days ago and I've had to work the night shift since I started back and by the time I'm finished, visiting hours are over for hours." She wasn't going to admit that the real reason she hadn't been to see Liz was because she didn't want her spitfire niece to see her pity which surely set off both of their tempers in the shouting match that was sure to ensue. She didn't want to harbour the urge to throttle her in her condition though, in her mind, Liz perfectly deserved it for the supreme Bitch she had become.  
  
Monica's brow furrowed at that. "Why don't you just come with Jason one night?" she asked.  
  
Courtney was taken aback. "Jason?" she asked incredulously. "Jason goes to visit Elizabeth?"  
  
As her son's fiancée, she had fully expected that Courtney knew that Jason religiously turned up in Liz's room at night and watched her sleep, guarding her like the sentinel Francis outside the door. Now she was subconsciously aware that she had just put her foot in her mouth, but she couldn't exactly say nothing to the girl. "Yes," she replied, drawing out the word cautiously. "He was the one who brought her in. He visits her every night."  
  
That certainly was news to her, but she played it off very well, summoning up every single scrap of Corinthos dignity inside of her as she smiled at the older woman before her and promised that she would see her later, while inside she had been seething with humiliation and anger.  
  
She had been prepared to let loose her anger on him when he came home later that night. But of course night had stretched into the wee hours of the morning and, yet again, she had awoken to find Jason inside of her, and all thoughts of anger and jealously spiraled from her mind in the heart stopping pleasure. Her customary bravery had fled the next morning when much to her surprise she had padded downstairs to seem him staring broodingly into a cup of coffee.  
  
She had looked at him in a different light - this man, so adept at keeping secrets from her. But her tongue was glued to her mouth every time she made an effort to speak up about his late night visits to Elizabeth, and she kept her anger and hurt bottled up inside as he moved deep in her body and she clasped him in her arms as their hearts slowed and their bodies cooled and Jason fell into exhaustive sleep, the tears started to flow silently as yet again he murmured Elizabeth's name in his sleep.  
  
TBC.  
  
A/N: I had wanted this chapter to be longer but I decided to end it here. I think I should have chapter 4 up by tomorrow or the day after that, depending on how my muse feels. R&R people and let me know what you think. 


	4. Chapter 4

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos II: Chapter 4  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: Sorry about the delay, I've had a lot on my plate (2 other fics to update), and I've had a major case of writer's block for all of them, specifically this fic. Thanks for last chapter's comments. I'm glad you seem to like the darker atmosphere.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Jason Morgan was dreaming. When he had woken up in the hospital the first time, he had opened his eyes to a sea of unfamiliar faces – people who claimed to know and love him… people he didn't have a slightest recognition of or care for. He was told he was damaged… that he would never be *normal*, whatever the hell that word meant. He would never again be able to function properly… he couldn't dream, more than likely didn't have the capacity to cry or to appreciate the beauty of the three dimensional world.  
  
But they were wrong. He did dream, and he did appreciate beauty. He had been taught to do so. He would never again forget.  
  
Dark swirling colours swam behind his eyelids as he surrendered his mind, body and spirit to the unconscious. Thoughts of the past couple of months barreled through his mind, causing him to stir and moan softly in his sleep. The only thing that brought him peace was *her* face: soft, smooth, pale satin skin, beautiful chocolate curls and cobalt orbs that he felt he could drown in; her smile, her laugh like music. He had never been a poetic man – at least Jason Morgan wasn't; perhaps Jason Quartermaine had been – but simple words could never do justice to what he felt for her.  
  
But along with admiration and respect, tinged with the slightest bit of lust, there was also pain. Pain that was a two-way street where the two of them were concerned. They both hurt each other in so many unimaginable ways, it was unearthly hard to understand why any of them could even stomach the sight of each other, much less hold on to the inkling of attraction between them.  
  
But it was still there, a little weak after being buried and abused for so long, but still there nonetheless. Still waiting. Still hanging in the balance. It was blatantly obvious; it was well hidden. What a funny thing love is isn't it?  
  
The dark swirling colours gradually became shapes and sounds, and Jason found his psyche journeying back to the night of Sonny and Alexis's housewarming.  
  
Sonny had jokingly told his bestfriend of the conditions Alexis had set in order to move in with him: she had to draw up his divorce papers (again); redecorate his horrible apartment *and* buy a new bed. She'd worked wonders on the apartment, changing the morbid dark grey paint to soft pastel yellow, mixing and matching certain beloved pieces of furniture from her home with furniture that Sonny brought from storage. It was an unwritten rule that although there were curtains at the windows they would not be closed at all times, and the sliding doors leading to the small balcony would be fitted with bullet proof sun-room glass.  
  
It was there that night while specially selected friends and family – a newly reunited Jax and Skye, Nikolas (firmly ensconced with his beloved cousin baby Kristina), Emily, Stefan, Bobbie, Luke, Lucky, Cameron, Gia, Zander, Ric, Courtney – mingled with the new couple, and Jason stepped onto the darkened balcony to get a breath of much needed fresh air. He didn't like crowds very much.  
  
At first he didn't see her but, as his keen eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, he saw the play of the crescent moon as it spilt moonlight over her creamy skin and he caught the scent of vanilla that was her signature. She didn't seem to be aware that she was not alone, although in the open doorway, the noise from the party passed through. He stood there for a indeterminable number of seconds just watching her gaze at the lights of the city below. **She is so beautiful**.  
  
Suddenly, she turned around, her dark-eyed gaze pinning him right where he stood, much like the time not so very long ago when she had woken up to find him watching her in her hospital room. Slowly, not breaking their gaze, he slid the door shut behind him, drowning out the sounds of the party inside.  
  
A ghost of smile flitted past her lips before she turned back to the city before her. The butterflies were fluttering in her stomach. In those few seconds she had feasted her eyes on him: jeans, T-shirt… so familiar, so devastatingly sexy. Of course he didn't know what the sight of him did to her. She didn't think he cared.  
  
This was the first time they had been alone since that night in her hospital room where he had not let go her hand and had kept her safe from her demons all night. She was disheartened that he had not returned. Of course he didn't – Courtney was back, after all. Of course she couldn't have known that he had come back, indeed kept coming back night after night, to hold her hand and keep her safe. She hadn't wondered why when she was in the hospital, she had slept soundly and safe but in her own bed, she woke each night, terror in her eyes.  
  
She heard the rustling as Jason made his way over to her and sat in the chair next to her. She hugged her knees closer to her chest, the soft breeze causing the silky ruffles of the skirt to flutter slightly around her calves, and breathed deep, inhaling the masculine scent of leather and male that was all Jason.  
  
She had so much to say to him, but how could one truly express the depths of one's emotions – gratitude, trust, respect, love – to someone you have not exchanged a civil word to in over a year? Her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth, she couldn't seem to find the strength to open it, and his perpetual silence was not helping much.  
  
Five more minutes of silence passed. Finally, Liz took a deep breath. Turning to Jason she said softly, "Thank you."  
  
He had been waiting for her to finally speak up, but she had caught him off- guard with suddenness of the statement. "Thank you?" he echoed confused.  
  
Liz nodded, and that ghost of a smile reappeared. "Yes, thank you, Jason Morgan."  
  
"For what?" he asked, confusion carving an adorable furrow between his brows.  
  
"I never thanked you for saving me that night. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."  
  
"I was just doing my –"  
  
"Your job," she interrupted, a little miffed at the emotionless statement. "I know," she continued hurriedly, " but that doesn't change anything. Thank you, Jason."  
  
He didn't know what to say to those three words. 'You're welcome' was the obvious answer but that certainly didn't do justice. How could you say that the person who owned a part of your heart doesn't have to say thank you when you save them while your fiancée is less than fifty feet away without coming across as a hypocrite? The truth was that he couldn't. So he said it (you're welcome), and pretended not to notice when she swallowed a knot of hurt in her throat.  
  
Liz turned back to the city lights. "I know things haven't been the best between us the last two years," she continued, so softly Jason thought she hadn't said anything. "But you were always there for me in the past before… before things fell apart between us."  
  
Jason looked away. He knew she had really meant to say before you let her walk away without a fight.  
  
"I could always count on you in the past…." she looked back at him, the intensity in her gaze affecting him to the core. "It's nice to know that I still can… that not all things have changed."  
  
"Elizabeth –"  
  
"No, don't say anything. I need to get this off my chest." She took another deep calming breath before plowing on. "We always promised to be there for each other, no matter what. We were *bonded* Jason… we'd seen love and pain and death… together. We always got through it *together*. But we *both* went back on our promise and it destroyed something that was so special, so important  
  
"We didn't just ruin our relationship Jason, we ruined our friendship, and that was the unthinkable. We turned bitter and hate filled… we poisoned what we had. *I* poisoned what we had."  
  
"Liz –" he broke in again.  
  
"Please, Jason," she begged, the emotion in her voice, "let me finish." At his silent nod she continued, "When you and Courtney got together, I felt so betrayed, so angry, so hurt. My bestfriend and my aunt. That was one for the books. I wanted you both to hurt as much as I was hurting. My bitterness is what got us here today – unable to even carry on a civil conversation with each other…."  
  
Jason took her silence as a signal that she was finished, but Liz began again. "But I'm not bitter anymore, Jason." Their gazes collided in the darkness. "It's taken yet another near-death experience for me to understand that life is too short to be crying over spilt milk. We had our chance to be together, and we blew it. We spent too much time hiding from each other, we forgot how to find our way back to each other. It's obvious that you love Courtney and I… and I love you both enough to let it be. It feels like I'm being flayed alive but I'll do it because I *do* still love you… be happy." She couldn't bring herself to add, 'with Courtney'. She wasn't that understanding.  
  
Jason listened to her words with a degree of incredulity. One part of his mind (the guilty part) was partially relieved by her words, although he didn't know why. He was a grown man, he didn't answer to anyone, not his parents, not Sonny. Why should he be relieved because a certain petite brunette gave him her blessing? He should be insulted. But, of course, he wasn't.  
  
The other part wanted to scream and yell at her that, no, she was wrong. This, of course, was the part of him that was hopelessly confused. That didn't know what he wanted. The part of him that had him staring at her in absolute confusion.  
  
Time seemed to stand still as both of them took stock of the past few minutes. Liz was amazed she had said all of that – she didn't know where it came from. But although the weight of her bitterness had been lifted from her chest, it was replaced two fold by the weight of the hurt that settled over her heart. She had pushed him away again. What was she thinking? Jason said nothing – he didn't know what he could say to ease the hurt flitting across her face.  
  
He knew in that same moment, however, that he wanted to kiss her more than anything. It was as if it were written in the stars so high above them. It seemed to be written across his face as well because as he leaned in ever so slightly, Liz's eyes widened in her beautiful face, but she didn't pull away. She wanted this as badly as Jason evidently did.  
  
Just then, the noise of the party flooded the balcony again, and the light spilt through. "Jason? Are you here?"  
  
Courtney's voice shattered the moment, and both of them repelled from each other like like magnets. They were sent crashing back into reality. Not wanting Courtney to know that he was not alone, he jumped to his feet and made his way over to her, taking her arm before she could reach for the light switch in the corner or adjust her eyesight to the dark and realize that he had not been alone.  
  
"I was looking all over for you," she continued, looping her arms around his neck.  
  
"I just came outside to get some fresh air." Courtney didn't know he didn't like crowds.  
  
"Do you want some company?"  
  
"No," Jason shook his head. "Let's go back inside." Courtney took his hand and made to draw him inside, but he resisted her hold for just a minute, turning his eyes back to the dark secluded corner where Elizabeth sat. She had turned back to the city again and so he didn't see her struggling to keep back her tears.  
  
Now in his sleep, he tossed and turned, as his mind was flooded with memories of her and their short time together. Being found in the bloodied snow; waking up to the cherubic smile of Sonny Corinthos' daughter; taking her for motorcycle rides; the night she showed him The Wind; the night she refused to go with him to Italy and he felt as though a piece of his heart had been ripped out; their first kiss; the night he pushed her away without a fight; the relief of finding her alive in the living room the night of Kristina's kidnapping; holding her hand and falling asleep thinking everything would be much better if she'd just open her beautiful blue eyes.  
  
Of course he couldn't know that in addition to dreaming, his 'damaged' mind caused him to mumble in his sleep, and he couldn't see when Courtney's tears started to fall.  
  
Still, ignorance is bliss. In his sleep he could be a damaged man who damaged everything around him and not be conscious of the destruction around him.  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: You like? I made the chapter a little longer than usual. I didn't know how to put into words all that I think they should have said to each other, but I feel as though they were horribly inadequate. Please R&R and be kind  
  
BTW… did anyone catch Thursday's show (07.17.03) when Skipper punched that whore Faith in the face? I was like "Yey, Skipper!" Was it just me or did Skipper turn green with envy at the way Jason was looking at Liz? Could it be that there might be some actual Liason in the future? One can only hope… or find Shadow Phenix's bat and beat up the writers! 


	5. Chapter 5

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos II: Chapter 5  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: I apologise for the weird symbols from last chapter – I don't know what was up with that.   
  
Thank you to those of you who looked past the weird symbols and made the effort to read the   
  
story and leave a review. You guys are the best. BTW: I seem to be getting a few Courtney   
  
sympathizers. Am I being too nice?  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Port Charles, New York  
  
It had been almost three months since Joseph Taggliatti's brutally disfigured body had been   
  
discovered floating face down in the Port Charles River. Sonny and Jason waited with bated   
  
breath as the necessary police investigation was carried out. But in the personal vendetta, Jason   
  
had left nothing to chance and the case was closed due to lack of evidence although Taggart had   
  
been especially tenacious with both Sonny and Jason. Though they were both itching to inflict   
  
serious bodily harm to the bald-headed Lieutenant, Alexis had warned them to keep their nose   
  
clean and out of trouble and appear as they usually did: calm and level headed in the face of his   
  
accusations.  
  
They had not relaxed their guard after the official investigation had been closed. Indeed they had   
  
waited with bated breath for possible retaliation from loyal members of the Taggliatti organization   
  
or other families eager to seize control of Taggliatti's territory. Fortunately unlike the sudden   
  
appearance of Luis Alcazar's brother, Lorenzo, nothing of the sort had happened, and Sonny   
  
seized the territory for himself and spent the last couple of months cleaning up the dregs of the   
  
PC Underworld.   
  
Now, Sonny sat behind his gigantic oak desk in his warehouse office listening intently as his loyal   
  
accountant/information-gatherer extraordinaire Benny recounted the state of Taggliatti's affairs.   
  
"He was in debt up to his eyeballs, Sonny," he recounted, pacing the floor or the office.  
  
Jason watched from his seat in the corner next to Sonny with an air of detached amusement.  
  
"Dock workers, sailors, captains, guards, even his f'ing housekeeper hadn't been paid in weeks."  
  
Sonny frowned. "Did you take care of it?" he asked concerned. Joseph Taggliatti had been a hard   
  
man to work for… no provisions would have been made for his employees, many of who were   
  
forced to work for him. They would most likely starve or end up working for other crime families   
  
now. Some might be in worst situations than before. Sonny didn't want that to happen.  
  
Benny frowned but nodded. "Yeah, I did. Cost you a pretty penny, too."  
  
"How much?" asked Jason from his corner.  
  
"Two hundred grand," replied Benny, his accountant's mind wincing at the figure.  
  
Sonny and Jason both shrugged. The money was inconsequential to them. "So where's the   
  
problem?" asked Jason.  
  
"The problem is that we've got a hundred plus people out there without a job, that's what," Benny   
  
replied. "And we all know what's gonna happen. The other families are gonna come in and snatch   
  
up the ones they think are most important and leave the rest on the wayside. That spells trouble   
  
not just for the PCPD but for us as well – petty crime and drug and intoxication rates are gonna   
  
shoot sky-high."  
  
Sonny nodded thoughtfully. "So what do you suggest we do?"  
  
Benny paused. He had an idea. He just wasn't sure how to put it into words. "We hold a meeting."  
  
"What kind of meeting?" asked Sonny carefully.  
  
"You have a meeting where you invite all of Taggliatti's former staff – everybody – and you offer   
  
to rehire them. Those who wanna get out of the business you let them – in fact you offer to help   
  
them get out. The others who come to you, you treat them like you treat us – with respect. It's   
  
important that you come across as merciful to those who are loyal to you. Not only do you get the   
  
staff to continue running Taggliatti's territory, but also, the people you helped out will be indebted   
  
to you for life. That's handy, especially if you wanna keep your nose looking clean."  
  
Sonny could see the logic in the plan but Jason frowned. "I don't see why we should spend any of   
  
our time and money cleaning up Taggliatti's mess. We got rid of him, didn't we? Isn't that   
  
enough?" he asked.  
  
"No, it's not. What if one of them squeals?"  
  
"None of them will do that because they know what will happen to them if they do."  
  
Sonny mulled over the accountant's words. Finally he said, "Do it. Call the meeting. But make   
  
sure it's someplace quiet."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Two hours later, Sonny knocked softly at the glass door.  
  
"Come in," came the voice on the other side.  
  
"Hey, you," he said, dimples ablaze as he strode into Alexis's office.  
  
Alexis returned his grin, removing her glasses as she walked around her desk to loop her arms   
  
around his neck. "Hi," she replied, kissing him softly. "What can I do for you?" she asked when he   
  
pulled away and tossed his coat over one of the chairs in front her desk.  
  
"I need your advice on something."  
  
Alexis lifted an eyebrow. "Go on," she invited.  
  
"I've decided to hire on some of Taggliatti's staff."  
  
The name of the man who had kidnapped her daughter and assaulted her other daughter gave   
  
her pause, but despite a tight jaw-clench, she continued to listen as Sonny recounted Benny's   
  
idea for rehire.   
  
"So, do you think it's a good idea?"  
  
"Why ask me when you've made up your mind?"  
  
"I haven't hired them yet, Alexis. I've only asked Benny to organize a meeting. Now, tell me what   
  
do you think?"  
  
The logical part of her admitted that it was a sound plan of rehiring the same people who know   
  
how to get the job done. The other part of her didn't want Sonny or Jason to be any more   
  
involved with Taggliatti than before.   
  
But Sonny wasn't paying her to be illogical… she was his lawyer in addition to his fiancée and the   
  
mother of his children and he was asking her this question as his lawyer, right? "It's a very good   
  
idea," she conceded albeit unwillingly. "But you're also taking a huge gamble, Sonny. What do   
  
you know of these people? Can you trust them? I mean they must not be very trustworthy or   
  
sound in mind to work for Taggliatti in the first place."  
  
Sonny chuckled, but sobered as he replied. "Most of them didn't have a choice, Alexis. They   
  
worked under threats to themselves and their families. Now they do have a choice. Come with me   
  
or get out. Simple."  
  
Nothing was ever that simple. She chewed on her thoughts a little longer before finally speaking.   
  
"Fine… go along with it. But if you hire them, make sure you're covered both with your authority   
  
and with the law."  
  
Sonny grinned and wrapped her in his arms again. "That's what you're here for, Counselor."  
  
Alexis grinned. "It's good to be needed."  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: This chapter sets the tone for the action/adventure/suspense/mystery part of the story, and   
  
there was a little bit of Sexis. Well, sorta at least. I promise to get Liz outta the hole in a little   
  
while, I just needed to get these background chapters outta the way. R&R please, ciao! 


	6. Chapter 6

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos II: Chapter 6  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: I must first apologize for the delay. I wanted to get this chapter out since last week, but I was   
  
very busy packing. You see, I left the country not too long ago and I didn't have access to the   
  
Internet, so this is the first opportunity I've had to write in almost 2 weeks. I apologise once more   
  
and thank you for bearing with me.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
New York City, the next day.   
  
Somehow, Elizabeth found herself flat on her back on the hardwood floor staring out at the   
  
brilliant blue above the famous New York skyline. Fat, fluffy white clouds lazily floated high above   
  
and she could see a few fat birds free-wheeling on the wind. The glare of the sun caused her to   
  
blink rapidly in an effort to adjust to the brightness.  
  
Doggedly, Liz pushed herself up on her elbows and looked at the beauty than surrounded her.   
  
She slowly made her way to her knees and gingerly stood up. Her knees almost buckled beneath   
  
her – they had been out of use for so long – and she just barely caught her balance on one of the   
  
filmy yellow curtains at the huge glass windows.   
  
She paused, giving her body time to adjust to the nauseous feeling of standing upright. Slowly, as   
  
if in a trance, she swept her gaze across the gigantic room that served as a living room/dining-  
  
room/studio before cornering off to a small yet fully stocked kitchen. The hardwood floor was   
  
carpet free, furniture limited to a comfortable futon and overstuffed couch in burgundy upholstery,   
  
a television and DVD/Video player in one corner, a pine elliptical dining table and matching chairs   
  
in the middle and, taking up most of the space in another corner by the huge wall of glass were   
  
numerous canvases in numerous stages of completion– some blank, others half-finished. The   
  
plain cream walls were covered with paintings. Canvases of all sizes ablaze with vivid colours like   
  
electric blue and lime green, or soft, cool, swirling pastels, or dark brooding greys and black. This   
  
was Elizabeth's art. Her sanctuary, her peace, her savior.  
  
She absentmindedly walked through the canvases, trailing her fingertips lightly over cans and   
  
tubes of paints, enjoying the slight tingle of her fingers as the swept over the bristles of her   
  
brushes, the slight sting as she trailed her index finger over the sharp point of a paint knife. She   
  
didn't know where she was heading, but subconsciously, she found her feet pointing in the   
  
direction of the second large window in the corner. There stood a painting away from the others,   
  
in a position of glory on its own special easel.  
  
The Wind. She felt her heart squeeze as she stared at the painting she had made for Jason. The   
  
painting she had helped him to 'see', to appreciate the swirling colours on the rough canvas. A   
  
lone tear tracked its way down her cheek but she brushed it away and smiled wanly as she   
  
reached out and trailed her fingers along the slight humps and ridges the thick paint made on the   
  
canvas. It sent a shock clear down to her soul and, just looking at it and touching it, sent strength   
  
barreling through every vein and bone in her body. She stood up straighter as she continued to   
  
stare.  
  
The Wind gave her strength, gave her hope, and gave her peace, just like Jason had so long ago.   
  
And although she might never have him, she would always have The Wind and for that she was   
  
eternally grateful.   
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Port Charles, midnight.  
  
After his customary late night pit stop at Kristina's bedroom, Sonny tiptoed his way into his   
  
bedroom. He had been expecting to find Alexis fast asleep on her side of the bed but, as he   
  
made his way quietly to his closet to hang up his pants and jacket, the bedside light snapped on,   
  
bathing the opulent bedroom with golden light and causing Alexis's shadow to flit against the wall.  
  
He spoke first. "Hey. I thought you were asleep."  
  
Alexis smiled and cocked her head on the side as she looked at him. "I wanted to wait up for   
  
you," she replied softly.  
  
"Really?" he asked, dimples ablaze as he chucked off his jacket and kicked off his shoes.  
  
"Yes, really." Slowly, she pulled the midnight blue silk sheets away from her body and rose up   
  
onto her knees in the bed.  
  
Sonny stared in pleasant astonishment. All she was clad in was sheer skin-colored negligee.   
  
Sonny's breath left him sharply. "Is that all for me, Counselor?" he asked as he hurriedly   
  
unbuttoned his shirt.  
  
Alexis nodded, her own dimple peeking out at him. She crooked her finger. "Come and get it," she   
  
purred.  
  
She squealed as Sonny pounced on her.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
New York City, same time.  
  
The chords of Linkin Park's Faint blared in the studio apartment as, light all ablaze, Liz cocked a   
  
critical eye at her latest creation. Blue. That was how she felt, that was what she identified with.   
  
Blue for the endless sky above the countless buildings; blue, the sea that surrounded the island   
  
her father had taken her to as a child; blue for how she felt inside for so long; blue, the colour of   
  
his lips the first time she found Him in the snow so long ago – Him meaning Jason of course;   
  
blue, the colour of his eyes when she stared at her – clear, fathomless, intense, looking straight to   
  
her soul. Just thinking about them made the butterflies flutter in her stomach.   
  
She didn't know what compelled her to paint in varying shades of blue, but she found her brush   
  
sweeping across the canvas, blending, swirling, juxtaposing each shade until they melded   
  
continuously. She didn't understand it – didn't think anybody would be able to understand it. She   
  
couldn't 'see' anything particular in the painting. But for once, there was no one around that she   
  
had to explain it to, or feel the urge to explain it to. She was alone. But strangely enough, also for   
  
the first time, that realization didn't make her want to fall to her knees and weep. No, for the first   
  
time, solitude meant a chance at happiness.  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: Well she's coming outta the hole. Please R&R and tell me what you thought. Ciao for now.  
  
Cara 


	7. Chapter 7

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 7  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: First off, I would like to apologise for the abominably long time it has taken for me   
  
to get a new chapter out. I was on vacation for a very long time and access to a computer   
  
was very sporadic. Then, when I finally came back home, I suffered a really long bad   
  
case of writer's block… it's not fully cured as yet, but I figured I'd take a swing at things   
  
again so that you don't lose track of the story. Well here goes: enjoy!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
From one of the many dark corners in one of Sonny's warehouses on the docks, Jason   
  
silently watched the many people gathered before him. It seemed like half of the PC   
  
Underworld was packed into the large room, many of them whispering amongst   
  
themselves or darting furtive glances in the direction of the Corinthos Enforcer.   
  
At the main table set up in front of them, Sonny stood conversing with Benny while   
  
Alexis sifted through some papers she'd withdrawn from her briefcase. Johnny and   
  
Francis stood guard at the door and numerous faceless Corinthos guards were spread out   
  
around the perimeter just in case things got out of hand. Jason's cold glacier-blue eyes   
  
swept the room constantly. He didn't like these people. They had worked for that scum   
  
Taggliatti and now, most of them would end up working for them. He didn't trust them –   
  
*any* of them. He hoped Alexis made it known to them all what would happen if they   
  
dared to cross the Corinthos family – the same thing that happened to their former boss –   
  
certain, painful death.  
  
Alexis glanced at her watch. It was eight o'clock on the dot. She caught Benny's eye and   
  
the diminutive accountant nodded his head. "May I have everyone's attention, please?"   
  
he called, waving his hands in the air to catch their attention.  
  
The din still continued as the people ignored Benny's plea for silence. Seeing that the   
  
accountant was getting nowhere with the crowd, Jason withdrew his gun from his holster   
  
and discharged one round into the ceiling. As the deafening sound echoed throughout the   
  
room the people, who had screamed and shouted in surprise, turned shocked and fearful   
  
stares towards him. "In other words, shut up!" he ordered.   
  
"Hey, you can't tell us to shut up," spoke up some wiseacre from the front row.  
  
Jason leveled a frozen stare in the man's direction. His mouth clicked audibly shut.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Morgan," Alexis spoke up in gratitude, rolling her eyes and trying to   
  
hide a smile. She turned to the gathered people who all looked expectantly at the future   
  
Mrs. Corinthos. "Now I know most of you are wondering why we gathered you here   
  
tonight," she paused as the people resumed their murmuring. "The answer is simple," she   
  
continued as they settled down yet again. "Joseph Taggliatti left a lot of untied strings as   
  
a result of his… untimely death. Many of you were not paid, no arrangements made for   
  
you or your families. Mr. Corinthos is prepared to change all of that--"  
  
Yet again the din resumed. People turned to their neighbours, curiosity furrowing their   
  
brows as they discussed what they just heard.  
  
"How's he gonna do that?" the wiseacre spoke up again.   
  
Sonny pulled himself up from his leaning position against the metal desk. "I'm prepared   
  
to offer each and everyone of you gathered here a job."  
  
Surprisingly, the din did not begin anew. Instead, the people seemed to be lost for words.   
  
Their eyes widened as they stared at the man standing before them – the most powerful   
  
crime lord in the Eastern Seaboard.  
  
"With limitations of course," Benny spoke up quickly.  
  
"Jobs?" asked a dark-haired woman in the front-row.   
  
"Yes, jobs," Alexis answered, her dark eyes sweeping across the room. It was an eclectic   
  
group: dockworkers, low-level guards, housekeepers, maids, waitresses, bartenders, even   
  
Taggliatti's personal chef. "You need them and we've got them. You have a choice of   
  
course – you can either accept Mr. Corinthos' offer of gainful employment or you can   
  
find yourself a new source of employment, outside of Port Charles, of course," the subtle   
  
threat behind her words was not mistaken.  
  
"What kinda jobs?" spoke up a burly dockworker in the middle of the crowd.  
  
"You will all continue to work in the specified field in which you worked in for   
  
Taggliatti, the only change is that your wages will be paid for by Mr. Corinthos,"   
  
explained Benny. "Those of you who do not wish to renew their contracts should do so   
  
by a show of hands."  
  
Jason smirked in his corner as no one raised his or her hand.  
  
"I think it's important to mention that your choice will not be held against you," Alexis   
  
explained, catching Sonny's eye. "Mr. Corinthos is willing to assist those who want to …   
  
shall we say, start afresh."  
  
"Meaning…?" asked the dark-haired woman, her gaze riveted to Alexis.  
  
"Meaning, I'm willing to pay you to get out of the business," Sonny clarified.  
  
More silence.  
  
An amazed smile slowly spread across the woman's face as her neighbour poked her in   
  
her ribs incredulously and the din began yet again.  
  
Things got so bad that Jason had withdrawn his gun to discharge another round when   
  
Alexis stopped him with a hand on his arm before letting loose an unladylike whistle.  
  
"I take it that your enthusiastic babble means that you have no objections to Mr.   
  
Corinthos' proposal," Alexis deduced.  
  
"Are you kidding me?!" exclaimed the woman. "Where do I sign?!"  
  
So many others echoed her sentiments that Jason's watchful gaze shifted to the people   
  
crowding around his bestfriend and he missed the thin, balding man slip out of the room,   
  
his dark eyes shooting daggers at the Corinthos crime boss.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
(Penthouse 2, later that night)  
  
Sonny quietly closed the door to Kristina's room and quietly padded down the hall to the   
  
bedroom he shared with Alexis. She sat with her back turned to him at the dressing-table,   
  
dragging an ornate ivory brush that had belonged to her mother through the thick chestnut   
  
strands of her hair.  
  
He rested his hands lightly against her shoulders and Alexis sighed in contentment as she   
  
tipped her head back against the hard warmth of his stomach.  
  
"We did good tonight, didn't we?" he asked, trailing his strong bronze fingers down her   
  
delicate throat.   
  
"Uh-huh," she answered, sighing contentedly as Sonny took the brush from her and   
  
resumed the task of brushing her hair.   
  
The majority of the people had chosen to align themselves with Sonny. Others, like the   
  
woman in the front row, had chosen to accept the severance package and make a new life   
  
for themselves outside of Port Charles. The gratitude on their faces was heartwarming   
  
and it felt good to be giving these people a second chance.  
  
"It seems that things are just settling into the swing of things. It's almost too good to--"  
  
"Don't say it!" interrupted Alexis, knocking rapidly on wood. "We don't want to jinx it   
  
do we?"  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: Well what do you think? Kinda short after so long? I'm sorry and I know that you guys   
  
are craving some good old-fashioned Liason, but please remember that this is more than just   
  
a sappy romance story. There's a whole lot going on as well, so please bare with me. R&R.  
  
Don't castigate me in your reviews, constructive criticism welcome. 


	8. Chapter 8

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 8  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: I've taken certain reader's suggestions about a little matter concerning Liz's love life to heart.   
  
Read and you'll see what I mean….  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
New York City (one week later.)  
  
"It's beautiful isn't it?"   
  
The husky well-modulated voice came somewhere to her right. Slowly, Liz turned her head,   
  
flicking cool blue eyes at the speaker.  
  
He grinned at her demeanor and Elizabeth found her mouth reluctantly tugging up at the corners.   
  
"Yes, it is," she finally admitted, turning away from the handsome dark-eyed stranger beside her.  
  
"What do you find so beautiful about it?" he asked conversationally.  
  
Liz cocked her head at him as if she couldn't quite believe he was still talking to her. He arched   
  
an eyebrow and looked at her expectantly. Elizabeth rolled her eyes but turned back to study the   
  
painting. "Confusion," she answered softly, turning to look up him with a small smile on her face.   
  
She paused. "What do *you* see?"  
  
The man kept his eyes on the painting, his gaze intensifying as each second passed. "I see the   
  
confusion as well. This is the first time I've seen this artist's work, but I'm amazed at the depth of   
  
emotion and passion he's conveyed."  
  
Liz arched an inky eyebrow. "He? How so? Do explain," she invited, looking up at him with   
  
interest.  
  
The man shrugged his shoulders and launched into a long passionate diatribe about what he   
  
'saw' in the painting. Elizabeth watched in fascination as this tall, handsome man talked so   
  
eloquently about the painting. He spoke with his entire body, not just his mouth, but with his   
  
hands and eyes and even his thick dark inky hair that brushed against his shirt collar, and   
  
Elizabeth could feel the tingling awareness deep inside that each woman possesses around an   
  
attractive man.   
  
After about five minutes of talking, he paused and grinned bashfully. "I'm sorry. I have a tendency   
  
to go on and on about art that I like. I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Daniel Toreno. And you   
  
are…?" he trailed off expectantly.  
  
Liz grinned mischievously. "Check the name of the artist. I'm *him*," she announced before   
  
turning her back on him and striding out of the gallery onto the street.  
  
Elizabeth wished she had eyes in the back of her head to catch Daniel's reaction. Indeed it was   
  
priceless. On her announcement, his eyes immediately dropped to the artist's signature in the   
  
bottom right hand corner of the painting: E. Corinthos. He stared at the scrawled writing for long   
  
almost indeterminable seconds before a smile slowly found its way to his face.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Port Charles (dinnertime)  
  
It was a rare occurrence – Sonny was home before Alexis. He had popped a casserole in the   
  
oven and, after fixing himself a stiff bourbon and plopping onto the sofa, the telephone rang.   
  
Sighing in fatigue, he snatched up the phone from the cradle.  
  
"Corinthos," he all but barked into the phone.  
  
There was a long pause on the other line.   
  
"Who is this?" Sonny demanded.  
  
"Dad?"   
  
It was Elizabeth, Sonny realized in surprise. "Elizabeth? Is that you, querida?"  
  
There was another long pause as though Liz was debating whether or not to answer. "Si, Papa,   
  
it's me."  
  
"It's been a while, querida," Sonny continued, after the awkward silence between father and   
  
daughter continued. "Que pasa?"  
  
"I know it's been a while but I had some… *issues* to sort out."  
  
"And have you?"  
  
"Have I what?"  
  
"Sorted those *issues* out?"  
  
Liz sighed on the other line. "For the most part," she answered quietly.  
  
Inside Sonny's heart was slowly breaking. It had been over two months since his blowout with   
  
Elizabeth and thing still had not improved between them. "That's good, querida," he replied,   
  
surprised and proud that his voice had not cracked.  
  
"I'm surprised you didn't send in the cavalry when I didn't call," she too was proud that she had   
  
managed to say that without a degree of bitterness.  
  
Sonny's half-hearted grin was full of mirth. "Believe me, querida, your mother wanted Francis to   
  
check on you, but I thought it would be best if we gave you some space." Sonny waited with   
  
bated breath to hear her response.  
  
Liz said nothing. "Speaking of Mom," she finally continued, "where is she?"  
  
Inwardly, Sonny sighed. **Oh well, it was worth the try** he thought sadly. "She's not here," he   
  
admitted, rubbing the stubble on his cheeks. "She and Ric are working late again."  
  
"That's too bad," she replied after a while. The silence stretched on again. Liz could hear Sonny's   
  
heavy breathing on the line. "Well… could you please tell her I called?" she asked, infinitely polite.  
  
A tear threatened to spill over. "Sure, querida. I'll tell her as soon as she gets in."  
  
"Thanks." Liz made to set the phone on the cradle when Sonny's anxious call stopped her.  
  
"Elizabeth?"  
  
"Yes…?"   
  
"Te quiero, querida," he blurted out.  
  
Liz sniffled on the other line. "I love you, too, Dad."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Port Charles (later that night)  
  
The casserole had long since been removed from the oven and placed whole into the freezer with   
  
a ton of other leftovers, before the key turned in the lock and Alexis quietly tiptoed into the dim   
  
apartment. She waved goodnight to Johnny in his position next to the door and quietly shut it   
  
behind her, praying to all divine entities that Sonny was already sleeping.  
  
The lamplight behind the couch snapped on, just as she thought she was home safe. **Damn!**   
  
No such luck.  
  
"I thought you would be in bed," she spoke up, setting her briefcase on the couch and kicking off   
  
her heels. At Sonny's silence, she took stock of him and felt her heart squeeze in alarm.  
  
She could see the salty tracks of dried tears on his cheeks and his eyes were bloodshot. He had   
  
been crying. Instinctively, her eyes immediately sought out the brandy, bourbon and whisky   
  
decanters. Amazingly, all three were relatively full. **At least he hadn't been drinking.** She   
  
caught sight of the empty tumbler on the table. **Much**.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked, turning his face to look at her.  
  
"Elizabeth called."  
  
Those two simple words spoke volumes. "And?" she asked, wanting him to continue. "What   
  
happened?"  
  
"Nothing much… except talking to my daughter was like talking to a brick wall on a stormy day in   
  
the middle of February. Just as cold and as productive."  
  
Alexis sighed and loosened her hair from its tight confines in the bun at the nape of her neck. "Go   
  
on," she invited, taking his left hand and rubbing her thumb lightly across his knuckles, an action   
  
that had always calmed him in the past.  
  
"Nothing happened really," he continued, sighing loudly. "She called to speak to you, not to me. I   
  
told her I'd tell you she called as soon as you got in. I told her I loved her, too," he added on,   
  
seemingly as an afterthought.  
  
The thumb stopped rubbing. "And?"  
  
Sonny looked at her, his dark eyes swimming with sadness. "She told me she loved me too,   
  
surprisingly."  
  
"Of course, she loves you, Sonny. No matter how strained things are between you two, she   
  
knows that you will never stop loving her, and the same goes for you."  
  
"I hope so," he replied, squeezing her fingers. "I sure do hope so."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
New York City (the next day)  
  
This time it was Adema's 'Unstable' blaring on Elizabeth's stereo when the phone rang.   
  
Reluctantly, she paused her paintbrush in midair and turned down the volume ever so slightly   
  
before reaching for the cordless.  
  
"Yello," she called loudly, sweeping a long line of yellow ochre paint onto her canvas.  
  
"Hello!" the person on the line called just as loudly.  
  
"Hello!" Elizabeth called again impatiently.  
  
"Hello! Elizabeth?! Elizabeth, is that you!"  
  
"Mom! Mom!" Elizabeth replied, immediately reaching across and lowering the volume. "Mom, I'm   
  
here!"  
  
"Gosh, Liz, that music is loud enough to wake the dead!"  
  
Elizabeth chuckled. "Jeez, Mom, you sound just like Grams."  
  
"Brilliant woman that she is," Alexis shot back sarcastically.   
  
Elizabeth chuckled again.   
  
"You're working on something new, aren't you," deduced Alexis. "That's the only time you play   
  
music loud enough for the dogs only to hear."  
  
"Ha, ha," Liz replied sarcastically. "For your information, however, I *am* working on something   
  
new. In fact, I'm working on a whole set of new stuff because… I have my first Gallery showing!"   
  
"Oh my God, Elizabeth! That's fantastic!"  
  
"Well, actually, I don't actually have my *own* Gallery showing yet, but one of my paintings is in   
  
the Schmidt Gallery downtown and I was speaking with the curator just an hour ago and she says   
  
already three other promoters are interested in my work!"  
  
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so proud of you!"  
  
"Thank you. I have a dinner meeting with the curator tonight at Carmen's to talk about prospective   
  
promoters. I'm so happy right now, Mom."  
  
Alexis smiled on the other line. "I know, I can hear it in your voice." She paused, considering   
  
whether she should continue. She did. "I take it that you didn't tell your father… he would've been   
  
so proud too –"  
  
"Please, Mom," Liz cut in, "don't start."  
  
"I'm just saying –"  
  
"Mom!"  
  
"Ok, fine! So am I going to get to see these paintings everyone is going so gaga over?" she asked   
  
teasingly.  
  
"Of course. Can you get into the city? We can do lunch. The curator wants to meet you. She's   
  
heard about your escapades with the New York Justice Department," she replied, chuckling.  
  
"Does she now?" Alexis replied, chuckling as well. "Well, I must make sure I don't disappoint."  
  
"Is Friday good for you?" asked Liz, adding a sweep of crimson to the canvas.  
  
"Friday's fine," agreed Alexis.  
  
"Great, I'll see you then."  
  
"Bye, sweetheart, I love you."  
  
"I love you, too, Mom."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Carmen's (later that night)  
  
The curator was almost half an hour late, and Elizabeth's waiter was paying way too much   
  
attention to her. His eyes had a tendency to dip to the cleavage revealed by her low cut dress   
  
each time he refilled her water glass or when he returned with the glass of Pinot Noir she'd asked   
  
for. Just as she was digging through her purse for her cellphone to call the curator to find out   
  
what was keeping her back, a shadow fell across her table. Thinking it was the annoying waiter   
  
again, she didn't look up.  
  
"You're a hard woman to get a hold of, Ms. Corinthos."  
  
Liz's head snapped up and she found herself staring into the smiling black eyes of Daniel Toreno.   
  
After getting over the initial shock of seeing him standing before her, looking so gorgeous in his   
  
dark grey suit, she arched a dark eyebrow at him. "Is that so?" she asked haughtily.   
  
"Yes, you are," he replied sitting down without an invitation, and signaling the waiter.  
  
"I wouldn't get too comfortable," she suggested, after he'd ordered a scotch. "I'm expecting   
  
someone."  
  
"You mean, Connie?" he asked, referring to the curator at the Schmidt Gallery. He chuckled at   
  
Elizabeth's confused look. "Well, Connie's not going to be here tonight. But, never fear, you don't   
  
need Connie. After all," he continued reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a business   
  
card, "*I'm* here." He handed her the card.  
  
Elizabeth's eyes widened as she read the card. "*You're* *the* Daniel Toreno? The one who   
  
discovered and represented Virginie Lauden, Ethan O'Grady, Paul Swanson?" she continued,   
  
calling out the names of famous artists he had discovered.  
  
Daniel grinned. "The one and only."  
  
"Well…" Liz exhaled sharply.  
  
"And I would really like to represent *you*, Ms. Corinthos," he continued, the picture of   
  
seriousness, all smiles gone from his face.  
  
"You gotta be shittin' me…."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
(Later than night)  
  
"I don't usually do this," Elizabeth explained softly, opening her door and switching on the light.   
  
She waved at Francis standing discreetly in the stairwell just down the hall, grinning inwardly at   
  
his disapproving frown. Obviously her over-protective bodyguard thought Daniel Toreno was a   
  
beau.   
  
"Do what?" Daniel asked, removing his coat, and handing it to her.  
  
"Show my studio work to strangers," she clarified, hanging up his coat.  
  
"Well, I won't be a stranger for much longer…hopefully," he replied, walking slowly through the   
  
apartment, his eyes taking in every detail. "Nice digs," he commented. "Must be a fortune in rent,"   
  
he continued.  
  
Liz refused to meet his gaze, striding purposefully instead towards her canvas corner. "A friend of   
  
mine lets me rent it cheap," she lied.  
  
"Some friend."  
  
Liz said nothing. "Would you like to see the canvases only?" she asked, as he continued to stand   
  
where he was. "I have some slides as well."  
  
His dark eyes snapped back hers, all business. "Are they any good?"  
  
"I think so."  
  
"I'll be the judge of that," he replied.  
  
Inwardly, Liz arched an eyebrow at his snappy comment, but outwardly, she said, "Do what you   
  
will," and swept her hand out in invitation.  
  
Daniel proceeded slowly between the mazes of canvases, surrounded by a riot of colour. His   
  
eyes sought out every detail, critically accessing each painting, yet saying nothing. He came to   
  
stand before 'The Wind', in its place of honour away from the other paintings. He stared at this   
  
the longest, his features softening ever so slightly as he 'saw' what he could.  
  
"This is a special painting, isn't it?" he asked.  
  
Liz, who was growing alarmed at his critical silence nodded and quietly replied, "Yes, it is."  
  
"Hmmm," Daniel replied, before resuming his walkthrough.  
  
Ten more minutes passed, and Elizabeth's dread steadily grew. **He hates them** she thought.   
  
**He probably thinks this was a waste of his time**. She felt like bawling.  
  
"Do you have a particular theme?" he asked suddenly, shattering the near silence in the room.  
  
"No," she replied, shaking her head and swallowing the huge lump of dread in her throat.  
  
"It's a pity… but I can work with that."  
  
Liz's eyes widened and a dazzling smile slowly crept to her features. "You like them?" she asked   
  
incredulously.  
  
Daniel grinned again and his black eyes sparkled. "To say 'like', Ms. Corinthos, is a gross   
  
understatement."  
  
Liz blushed. She had a feeling he wasn't talking about her paintings.  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: Well folks, what did you think? R&R. Sorry for the delay, but school's back in session and   
  
I'm really busy. Updates will come at least once a week, but don't be surprised if there is only an   
  
update every couple of weeks. I'll try my best. Liason action coming very soon, I promise! 


	9. Chapter 9

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 9  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: Thank you very much from last chapter's comments. I'm pleased with the positive response   
  
to the new character Daniel. You can be sure you'll be reading a lot more about him where Liz is   
  
concerned in future chapters. The Liason moments are coming… soon I promised, but like I said   
  
before, you guys signed on for a lot more than just sappy romance when you started reading this   
  
fic, so bear with me, you'll get what you want… soon.   
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
New York City (the next night)  
  
New York was the perfect city to disappear in. It was so easy to blend in with the crowds… no   
  
matter where you seemed to go, it was a guarantee that there would be at least someone else   
  
who would stand out more than you would. He was counting on that.  
  
The heavens had opened and fat crystalline raindrops were continuously hitting the sidewalk.   
  
Before, the night had been clear, only a few clouds in the sky. But everything in New York was   
  
unpredictable, even the weather. Umbrella after umbrella suddenly snapped open, those without   
  
were caught unawares, but no one ran. They all continued on their way seemingly like mindless   
  
drones, too intent on getting where ever they were going to give a damn about getting a little…   
  
well in this case, a lot, wet.  
  
He didn't like the city. The people were so uncaring, so unfriendly, most had no sense of family…   
  
it was like they hated all strangers – people who walked too slowly or had the audacity to ask   
  
them for directions. **Goddamn it! Where is he!** The man craned his neck as he looked up and   
  
down the busy sidewalk, scanning each face in the crowd. He checked his watch for what was   
  
the fifth time in as many minutes, but there was still no sign of the person he was to meet. Sighing   
  
in frustration and shivering slightly from waiting on the chilly sidewalk, the man turned around and   
  
headed into the diner he had been standing in front of.  
  
An annoying little bell signaled his arrival, and inwardly he cringed, expecting every single eye to   
  
be glued to him but, in typical New York fashion, the diner patrons didn't so much as bat an   
  
eyelid. Furtively, his eyes darted around, making note of each patron while also trying to find a   
  
seat in the back, relatively private but in an area where he could still see the door. Spying one, he   
  
hurriedly made his way over to it and slid into the booth. He ordered a cup of coffee from the   
  
waitress, who impatiently snapped her bubblegum every few seconds, and waited.  
  
When another half hour and three cups of coffee had passed, he was growing more alarmed by   
  
the second and was seriously considering leaving when the bell announced another patron. He   
  
breathed a sigh of relief when he recognized the person.   
  
Shaking raindrops from his coat, the other man's eyes shrewdly swept the room and, spying the   
  
man in the corner, he brusquely made his way over to him, his eyes shooting daggers as he slid   
  
in across from him.  
  
"Thanks for meeting me," the man spoke up, leaning forward eagerly, his eyes bulging in his too-  
  
thin face.  
  
"What are you doing here?" the other man hissed. "What the fuck do you want from me now,   
  
Lyle?"  
  
"The same thing I know you want," he replied, reaching into his denim-jacket pocket and   
  
removing a photograph and chucking it across the table.  
  
The other man scoffed, but picked up the photo. It was a picture of Sonny and Jason about to get   
  
into a limousine with Alexis. He stared wordlessly at the photo.  
  
Lyle shrewdly measured his reaction. "Take a good hard look at the men who murdered your   
  
brother."  
  
Silent seconds ticked by and the man stared balefully at the two men in the picture. "I know," he   
  
finally replied, his voice harsh with emotion. "I know."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Casa Corinthos (around the same time)  
  
"I spoke with Elizabeth yesterday," Alexis announced at the dinner table. Courtney's head   
  
snapped up, Ric smiled, Kristina continued eating her noodles in her high chair and, as usual,   
  
neither Jason nor Sonny said anything.  
  
"Really?" asked Ric, eager for news about his elder niece. "How is she?"  
  
"Great!" Alexis replied, refilling hers and Sonny's glasses. "More wine?" she asked Courtney and   
  
Jason. Jason shook his head, but Court immediately stuck her glass out for more. "Like I said,"   
  
she continued, "she's doing great. One of her paintings is being showed in the Schmidt Gallery in   
  
the city."  
  
"That's fantastic!" announced Ric.  
  
"Yeah," replied Courtney with only slightly less enthusiasm. Despite her misgivings about her   
  
niece, she was genuinely proud of her.  
  
Jason and Sonny remained silent, Sonny staring broodingly into his wine glass, Jas   
  
absentmindedly twirling his pasta around his fork.  
  
"Isn't it?" continued Alexis. "She was supposed to have a meeting with the curator last night to   
  
discuss promoters. I'm going into the city on Friday to have lunch with her, see what all those   
  
crazy art people are going so gaga over," she joked.  
  
Ric laughed, Court smiled, Jas and Sonny said nothing and Kristina giggled: "Uh-oh!" when her   
  
spoon slipped out of her hand to the floor, sending sauce everywhere.   
  
Talk about the elder Corinthos daughter was suspended for a while Courtney and Ric cleaned up   
  
the mess and Alexis carted Kristina upstairs to clean up, leaving Sonny and Jason alone at the   
  
table.   
  
Sonny got up from the table and headed for the balcony. Reluctantly, Jason followed, knowing   
  
that something was eating away at his best friend and wanting to help him, but not   
  
enthusiastically because he had a feeling of what was plaguing Sonny's mind. As he stepped   
  
onto the open-air balcony, he braced himself against the cool night wind and the barrage of   
  
memories of the night of the housewarming party.  
  
"I miss her, you know," Sonny spoke so softly, Jason wasn't sure he heard him. But he knew   
  
exactly whom he was talking about. He knew that Sonny and Elizabeth had had a falling-out of   
  
some sorts, but he had never asked what about. He would never have guessed it was about him.  
  
"What happened between you two?" Jason finally asked, staring straight ahead to the twinkling   
  
lights of the town below, trying hard not to notice the imaginary scent of vanilla floating on the   
  
breeze.  
  
Sonny said nothing for long indeterminable seconds. "You," he finally admitted, the single word   
  
hanging heavily in the wind.  
  
Jason's head whipped toward him, his blue eyes etched with surprise.   
  
Sonny walked back inside. That one word had said it all.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
New York City  
  
Lyle stared at the other man and scratched his balding head. "What do you mean, you know?"  
  
The other man smirked mirthfully. "I do read the PC Times. It pays to know what's going on at   
  
home. Besides… who doesn't know about the almighty Sonny Corinthos and his Enforcer, Jason   
  
Morgan?" he asked bitterly.   
  
Lyle's eyes darted around, trying to deduce if anyone had overheard what the other man said.   
  
"How long have you known?"  
  
"Do you think I'm an idiot, Lyle? I know what sort of life my brother led. I knew it would only be a   
  
matter of time before he crossed the wrong line and pissed off the wrong person…."  
  
"You didn't even come to the funeral?" Lyle spoke up almost accusingly.  
  
The man's eyes snapped up, the dark pinpoints, so alike his brother's boring into the other man.   
  
Lyle swallowed convulsively.  
  
"What good would that have done?" he hissed.   
  
"Your mother would have appreciated it," Lyle shot back.  
  
The other man remained silent.   
  
"You should have been there."  
  
"But I wasn't!" he shot back defensively.  
  
"So what are you gonna do about it? Leave your mother to grieve for yet another murdered family   
  
member?"  
  
As Lyle spoke the other man's hands convulsively tightened around the photograph of Sonny and   
  
Jason until it was nothing but a crinkled ball of paper. "You know me better that that, Lyle. If   
  
there's one good thing I've ever learnt from my sonofabitch brother is vindictiveness. Corinthos   
  
and Morgan will *pay* for what they did to my brother!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The Loft (after dinner)  
  
"That's great about Elizabeth, isn't it?" asked Courtney as she removed her jewelry in their   
  
bedroom. She didn't know why she asked the question. It had popped out of nowhere. But part of   
  
her, the part of her that knew that everything about Jason and Elizabeth's relationship wasn't   
  
quite clearly defined, wanted to see his reaction. She watched his reflection as he sat removing   
  
his boots, in the mirror.   
  
"I guess," he answered in a manner that was completely Jason – difficult to analyze or   
  
understand.  
  
"She must be really happy," she continued, unsure as to why she was pushing he matter.  
  
Jason wondered the same, but as usual, kept his thoughts to himself, seemingly perfectly   
  
absorbed in the task of removing his boots.  
  
"She's worked really hard for this."  
  
Jason's eyes snapped up, his confused gaze meeting hers in the mirror. "Yes, she has," he   
  
replied, his voice full of conviction.  
  
Neither said anything, their gazes locked in the mirror. Courtney looked away first. "I'm happy for   
  
her," she mumbled rapidly, staring down at the engagement ring winking on her ring finger.  
  
For someone who had been described as not having the capacity to feel or to read emotion, he   
  
caught the gist of Courtney's statement very well. It seemed the green-eyed monster was rearing   
  
its ugly head again.  
  
Suddenly he was aware of how cautious he had been around Courtney in the last few months –   
  
always minding his P's and Q's, especially where Elizabeth was concerned. He always carefully   
  
gauged what he said about Liz around her, although he didn't know that Courtney's jealousy was   
  
justified. He wanted to mirror her statement, although he would have echoed it more truthfully.   
  
Instead, as usual he said nothing and blatantly changed the subject.   
  
"Hey, Court, wanna beer?"  
  
Courtney's blue eyes incredulously snapped up to meet his again, as if to say, "Can you be for   
  
real, Jason." She continued to stare. She knew he had changed the subject. Part of her wanted to   
  
know why, the other just wanted to let it alone. "Sure, Jas," she finally replied. "Why the hell not?"  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: I know the chapter's kinda short and sort of roundabout. I promise next chapter will be a lot   
  
juicier. Please R&R and tell me what you think. 


	10. Chapter 10

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 10  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: First, I apologise for the delay. I was busy with school and work all last week and was unable   
  
to find time to write a new chapter. That being said, thank you for last chapter's comments, I have   
  
nothing to say about the character Daniel, except to read and find out 'cause, with me, you never   
  
can tell. Enjoy!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
New York City (3 weeks later)  
  
Liz and Alexis's lunch date had come and gone as well as the scheduled meetings between   
  
Frances, Daniel and herself. Everything had been settled – Elizabeth had entered into a contract   
  
with Daniel allowing him exclusive rights to market and promote her work – and now, she devoted   
  
the majority of her time into compiling new work for her first solo exhibition at the Schmidt in less   
  
than eight days.  
  
When she was not painting, she was with Daniel, working feverishly alongside him and the   
  
harried set-designer on the Gallery opening. He had specific ideas about what he wanted the   
  
launch to be like and they had clashed on more than one occasion but, for the most part, she left   
  
most of the decision-making to him.  
  
He had one annoying habit however. He was constantly looking over her shoulder, monitoring the   
  
progress of the paintings as she worked. He never made any suggestions, but often, it was a bit   
  
unnerving when he seemingly faded into the background watching her paint and she could only   
  
feel his dark eyes watching every move her brush-strokes made. He never said anything but,   
  
much to her chagrin, in the vast amount of time they had spent alone together in the past couple   
  
of weeks, every time he was near her, she could feel that tingling awareness gnawing in her belly.   
  
She was attracted to him. And it was no secret that he found her attractive as well. He   
  
unconsciously found himself stroking her close-cropped curls, or whispering in her ear when he   
  
watched her paint from over her shoulder. He was always seemingly *there* although he had   
  
other business to take care of.  
  
Liz felt special, like a *woman* whenever he was around. And the more time they spent together,   
  
the weaker her resolve to keep their relationship strictly platonic and businesslike became. If he   
  
ran his fingertips over her shoulders one more time, she would crack!  
  
Tonight, it was the same story. Seemingly, every light was blazing in the studio and Deftones was   
  
blaring in her headphone – her music 'bothered' Daniel ('Gee, where the hell did he get off?'   
  
she'd wanted to know at first), so she kept it to herself. She was humming along to 'Minerva'   
  
when she instinctively felt his presence behind her. His hands settled warm and strong on her   
  
shoulders, and his thumb was rubbing small circles at the base of her neck. His eyes were glued   
  
to the canvas however. Slowly, Liz removed the headphones from her ears and waited with bated   
  
breath. The painting was only partially finished, but it was breathtaking nonetheless. Obviously,   
  
Daniel thought so as well.  
  
"It's beautiful."  
  
Liz jumped, her eyes popping open. His voice had come right beside her ear. Its grated whisper   
  
sending shivers down her spine. His fathomless eyes shifted from the painting to meet hers.   
  
"Beautiful," he whispered again, before he closed the hairsbreadth of distance between them and   
  
captured her lips with his.  
  
At first Liz was too astonished to do anything but sit there in shock. But, as his tongue probed the   
  
seams of her mouth, it was as though a bucket of water had been tipped over her head.  
  
**Oh my God!** her mind screamed. **He's kissing me! And I like it!**   
  
Instincts took over after that revelation and Elizabeth found herself turning on her stool, melting   
  
into his touch with a reluctant moan as his strong arms wrapped around her and drew her against   
  
him.   
  
Pleasure jack-knifed through her body as his lips trailed soft, wet kisses down her jaw line to the   
  
smooth pale column of her throat. Her fingers buried themselves in the thick crow's feather hair at   
  
the nape of his neck, her stomach pressing against the evidence of his desire.  
  
Elizabeth couldn't think… she was drowning in a see of desire; incapable of any rational thought   
  
besides the fact that her body felt as though it was on fire and there was only one way to quench   
  
those flames. She whispered her name, and closed her eyes against the intensity.  
  
Suddenly he stopped. Reluctantly, Liz opened her heavy eyelids to see his smoky-eyed gaze   
  
riveted on hers. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice trembling with the effort to remain control.   
  
It was such a loaded question. He meant, of course, was she ready to take that step? To forever   
  
cross the line between business and pleasure – a line that had never truly been clearly defined   
  
between the two of them. But for her, it meant so much more… she had not been with anyone   
  
since that ill-fated romance between Zander and herself after they'd been locked in the crypt,   
  
before she and Jason had gotten together… more than two years ago. She had just never felt   
  
anything close to the way she felt for Jason… still didn't. But this was so close… so achingly   
  
close.  
  
But, *was* she ready. She didn't think so… but then again, she never was certain.  
  
She answered him with a kiss.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Far away in Port Charles, Jason Morgan awoke with a jerk.   
  
His heart seemed to have broken in two.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Elizabeth lay dozing in the aftermath of their pleasure, the cotton sheets wrapped loosely around   
  
their bodies. Her head lay against the pillow as she spooned with him behind her propping on his   
  
elbow.  
  
"Tell me about yourself," he encouraged, dropping a kiss on a creamy shoulder.   
  
Liz smiled sleepily. "What do you want to know?"   
  
"I dunno. Everything. Who is Elizabeth Corinthos?"  
  
"Just your average New Yorker," Liz joked.  
  
"Yeah right," Daniel chuckled, gently nipping her shoulder.  
  
Liz turned until she was facing him.   
  
"There's not much to tell. I'm from Port Charles. I have a little brother named Michael and a little   
  
sister called Kristina and I lived there most of my life. I'm close to my mother and my cousin   
  
Nikolas and I love art. Just a regular small-town gal."  
  
"With friends in high places," Daniel added.  
  
Liz looked away. He was referring to the apartment. He always wondered how an artist such as   
  
herself, who wasn't established as yet, could afford an apartment like this.   
  
Her gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and gently forced her to look at him. "Who   
  
are you *really*, Liz? You're such an enigma… and everyone I've asked is so closed mouthed   
  
about you. What's so special about you, Ms. Corinthos?"  
  
The look in his eyes told her he'd used her surname deliberately. He already knew who she was.   
  
Why he still bothered to ask baffled her.   
  
"Why ask if you already know who my father is?" she asked testily. She gathered the sheets   
  
around her and made to leave the bed, but his loose grip around her elbow stalled her.  
  
"I wanted to hear it from your own lips."  
  
"How did you know?" she eventually asked softly.  
  
Daniel shrugged and released her, dragging his hand roughly through her hair. "I make it my   
  
business to find out everything I can about the artists I represent. Corinthos is not that common of   
  
a name, Liz. Besides, what New Yorker doesn't know of Sonny Corinthos, the most powerful mob   
  
boss on the Eastern Seaboard?"  
  
"Alleged," shot back Elizabeth defensively.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"*Alleged* mob boss," she replied.   
  
Daniel raised an eyebrow but said nothing.   
  
In a huff, Elizabeth turned her back on him and settled back into the pillow.   
  
"Liz," he tried to touch her shoulder in apology. She shrugged him off. "Liz, I'm sorry. I never   
  
should have brought it up."  
  
"Just go, please?" she asked quietly.   
  
Daniel heaved a sigh and reluctantly got out of the bed and gathered his clothing. Liz said nothing   
  
as he hurriedly dressed behind her. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
Liz watched stonily as he crossed the open-plan apartment to the front door and left her alone   
  
again.  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: R&R people. I'll try to get next chapter up sooner. I know this is a Liason fic, although the   
  
Liason moments are practically nonexistent, they will come, probably in the next two or three   
  
chapters, just keep bearing with me.  
  
Cara 


	11. Chapter 11

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 11  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: Thanks for the comments.   
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Port Charles (2 days later)  
  
It came like a thief in the night. Death, robber of life, deliverer of sorrow. It paid a special visit to   
  
the sleepy town of Port Charles, in the Corinthos camp.  
  
Jason's nose wrinkled in disgust. Something was not quite right. With seemingly dispassionate   
  
eyes, he gazed at the body on the ground in front of him. The lean lifeless body crushed beneath   
  
the weight of the two-tonne crate pinning it to the ground, pale lifeless eyes that, ten minutes ago   
  
had been crinkled with laughter, now cold and fixed in horror. **He was only a boy** thought   
  
Jason. Nineteen years old – Angel Martinez - the pride of his family, he was working to help   
  
support his night classes at PCU.  
  
'Freak accident,' he could hear the furtive whispers of the dockworkers behind him. Angel had   
  
been standing below, speaking with one of his supervisors when the ominous snapping of a rope   
  
could be heard even over the din of the hardworking men and the rhythmic lap of the river   
  
currents on the muddy banks.  
  
From his office, he could hear the horrifying crash of the wood upon the teenager, heard his   
  
screams before all the air had been expelled from his crushed lungs. He had been among the first   
  
to come on the scene… his hawk like eyes surveying the area for anything out of the ordinary.  
  
Freak accident? They weren't unlikely on the dock. Human error often caused catastrophic   
  
accidents but very few of them ended in death. Freak accident? How unlikely in this case. He   
  
squatted by the body even as the shrieking ambulance rushed into the compound. His eyes   
  
combed the crate before they found what they were looking for – the sturdy hemp rope that   
  
supported the crates as they were moved from trailer to ground before being stacked was   
  
severed clean, as if cut by a knife, not frayed and uneven as would be the case if it had snapped   
  
under the weight of the crate.  
  
He could feel his best friend's presence behind him, even as he stared once more at the dead   
  
man, moving out of the way as the first policemen arrived at the scene, ordering them to step   
  
away and allowing the firemen and paramedics to attempt to clear away the debris. He met   
  
Sonny's eyes.   
  
Sonny frowned but nodded. It was clear… this was no accident. One of his men had just been   
  
murdered.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Upstairs in his office, Sonny surveyed the crime scene below him. The bright lights of the squad   
  
cars and the ambulance still flashed in the early evening and he could see the bright yellow police   
  
tap cornering of the scene. Taggert had been around, questioning the dockworkers, asking if   
  
they'd seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. But the men were shell-shocked, surprised,   
  
they knew nothing of what had happened.  
  
Taggert's eyes had bored into Sonny and Jason standing slightly off from the milling crowd of   
  
men. His gaze said it all – he didn't believe that it had been an accident either.   
  
That was two hours ago, the last of the policemen were vacating the premises and the final   
  
stragglers of the dockworkers who had been given the rest of the day off drifted past the gates.   
  
Sonny didn't start as Jason came to stand beside him.  
  
"What do you think?" he asked, his eyes riveted on the sight below. He had known Angel, he was   
  
a good boy. Sonny had hired him personally when, despite the protestations of his family, he had   
  
applied for a job. He was keen, hard-working and smart, he would have gone far.  
  
"You saw the rope. It was no accident," Jason replied.  
  
Sonny frowned. "Why him?" he asked, turning away from the window. "He was kid, a dockworker,   
  
nobody important."  
  
Jason said nothing. He didn't quite understand it either.  
  
Sonny pinched the bridge of nose between his fingers – he could feel a migraine coming on.   
  
"Jesus!" he exclaimed. "I promised her, Jason. I promised that kid's grandmother that nothing   
  
would happen to him!"  
  
"What do you want me to do?" Jason asked, sympathetic blue eyes following his pacing friend.  
  
"To hell with the PCPD, Jas. I want you to find out who did this."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Knock-knock?"  
  
Elizabeth's head snapped up, a slight frown marring her features as she took in Daniel standing   
  
in front of her behind the door.   
  
"You're supposed to ask, 'Who's there?'" he joked when she said nothing as she opened the   
  
door.  
  
"Why bother when I already know it's you?" she retorted.  
  
"Ouch!" he replied, clutching his chest in mock pain.  
  
Liz heaved a frustrated sigh as she took him in from between the crack of the door and the wall.   
  
"What are you doing here, Daniel?" she asked wearily.  
  
He held up an envelope. "These are yours."  
  
"What are they?"  
  
"Your tickets. For the gallery showing," he clarified. He held the envelope out to her.   
  
She looked at it as though it were poisoned before reluctantly, she took the envelope from him   
  
and made to shut the door.  
  
"Hey," he stopped her from closing the door with his hand. "Aren't you even going to let me in?"   
  
he asked.  
  
"Daniel –"  
  
"Elizabeth, I said I was *sorry*. What more do you want me to say?"  
  
"I'd rather you not say anything at all," she replied.  
  
"Hey, that's not fair," he shot back, barring the door when she tried to close it yet again. "Why are   
  
you being so defensive about this? It's not a secret who your father is, or what he does for a   
  
living."  
  
"You know *nothing* about my family, Daniel, so just drop it will you?"  
  
"No, Elizabeth, I will not just 'drop it'."  
  
Liz frowned. "Well, I guess we have a problem, don't we?"  
  
"This is ridiculous!"  
  
"Ridiculous?!" her Latin temper exploded. "You insult my father then have the audacity to say I'm   
  
being ridiculous?! Just where the hell do you get off, Daniel Toreno?!"  
  
"I've not insulted your father!" he defended.  
  
"So- so- so calling him a mob boss was just your way of paying him a compliment?!"  
  
"Elizabeth, stop it! Just stop it! You're blowing this way out of proportion!" He cut her off again   
  
before she could start again. "I never meant to insult you or your father. It was a simple mistake   
  
and I've apologized for it more than once. But it's my business to pay attention, to know   
  
everything I can about the artists I risk my reputation to represent. This is not a fancy, Elizabeth.   
  
I'm not in this because I think you're beautiful and all I wanted to do was hop into bed with you.   
  
This is *business*. I can't afford to have my reputation tainted because I'm hobnobbing with an   
  
*alleged* career criminal."  
  
"What are you saying?" asked Liz quietly. "That you don't want to represent me?"  
  
"No, of course not," he clarified dragging his fingers through his already ruffled hair. "It would be   
  
stupid and the biggest mistake of my career not to represent you. All I'm saying is there will be   
  
problems because of who you are… there might always be problems. I just wanted you to be   
  
ready for them." His dark eyes looked at her beseechingly.   
  
Reluctantly, Liz pulled back the security chain and stepped away from the door. With an audible   
  
sound, Daniel followed her inside.  
  
"I've always dealt with rumors, Daniel. I'm a Cassidine princess, they're part of my life. I'm not   
  
going to break. Who cares what people think of me?"  
  
"I do. It's my job to care, Elizabeth."  
  
Liz shrugged "I know who my father is, Daniel. I know what sort of man he is… you don't and   
  
neither do other people."  
  
"So, you're more concerned about your father than yourself."  
  
"Stop concerning yourself about my family and be more concerned with my art," she suggested,   
  
padding over to her studio corner.  
  
Daniel nodded and followed her, coming to stand behind her. "So… are we ok now?" he asked   
  
tentatively, his words a warm whisper beside her ear.  
  
Elizabeth shivered in delight. She knew this was not the end, that they would talk of this again.   
  
Her head fell back against his shoulder as his fingers glided up the smooth skin of her stomach   
  
beneath her top. "For the moment," she breathily replied before his lips captured hers for a kiss.  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: Got this chapter out earlier than usual because my muse was unexpectedly nice to me,   
  
although everything else seems to be going wrong. R&R folks tell me what you think. BTW,   
  
Liason comes in Chapter 13 for sure. 


	12. Chapter 12

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 12  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: I apologise for the delay… was busy with school. I must admit, I've been finding it kind of   
  
hard to write this fic, for two reasons: 1.) The show is not exactly helpful in the Liason or Sexis   
  
department…AT ALL and 2.) I miss the crazy reviews. So please do me a favour and drop me a   
  
line, even if it's just to let me know you're still awake. Gracias! Enjoy!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
New York City (2 days before the Gallery opening)  
  
**Where the hell are those tickets?**  
  
Elizabeth exhaled with a huff and backed out from under the dusty floor beneath her bed. She   
  
was on a quest to find the envelope of tickets that Daniel had delivered to her four days ago. She   
  
had waited until the absolute last minute to send the invitations, with the hope that they would not   
  
reach Port Charles on time, although she knew that not even a stampede of bison, a category 5   
  
hurricane and the world's biggest tornado would stop Alexis Davis from showing up at her   
  
daughter's first gallery showing. But at least without the invites, she wouldn't drag the whole   
  
gang, right?  
  
She sure as hell hoped so.   
  
But she also sure as hell knew that her mother would be very annoyed if she didn't at least try to   
  
send off the invites. And nothing was more frustrating than an annoyed litigator with a supreme   
  
grip of vocabulary. So, if she just found the frigging tickets and mailed them, Alexis could not   
  
ream her out… much.  
  
But there in lay the problem. She couldn't find the frigging tickets!  
  
She had turned the apartment upside down – looked under the cushions, in the cupboards, even   
  
in the freezer, which had been the last unexpected storage unit for her hair dryer. But to no avail.   
  
She was convinced … the tickets were hiding from her!  
  
"Get a grip, Corinthos!" she muttered out loud. "I had the tickets last Saturday. They couldn't have   
  
just sprouted wings and flown away! Think! Think! If I were a ticket, where would I hide? Jesus! If   
  
I was a ticket I wouldn't be hiding from anyone!"  
  
She stalked from the bedroom into the open-plan living/dining-room cum studio and surveyed her   
  
surroundings, her mind traveling back to the events of last Saturday when Daniel had shown up   
  
at her door. After she had allowed him to come in, she had padded over to her canvases… Daniel   
  
had come up behind her, they kissed and… Liz blushed. How pathetic was she that she blushed   
  
at the thought of herself having sex with Daniel… actually in the very spot she was standing on.   
  
"God!" she exclaimed. "Think tickets, Corinthos! Tickets!" It was very hard to think of paper-thin   
  
pieces of cardboard, when olive skin and washboard abs were so much more fun.   
  
After, Daniel had scooped her into his arms and carried her into her 'bedroom', where he'd gently   
  
laid her on the bed and provided her with a repeat performance. Liz's brow furrowed… she'd   
  
been so drowsy and lethargic, she couldn't remember much… only a soft fleeting kiss on her   
  
forehead and Daniel… tucking something back into his coat pocket….  
  
Liz's eyes widened. **That dirty little bastard!**  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Port Charles (Davis and Lansing, Attorney's-at-Law)  
  
"Did you check your mail?" Alexis asked, handing her partner a cup of coffee. "Your invitation to   
  
the opening should have gotten here by now."  
  
"I got it… very nice printing. I'm impressed."  
  
"Only the best for the Cassidine princess."  
  
Ric smirked. "I'm sure."  
  
"So," drawled Alexis, perching at the edge of the desk.   
  
Ric viewed her suspiciously.   
  
"The invitation says Ricardo Lansing and *guest*…. Anyone in mind?" she asked pointedly.   
  
"'Cause you know – "  
  
"Nope! Stop right there! Don't even think about trying to set me up on a date!"  
  
"But –"  
  
Ric cut her off again. "No buts… unless you want to *butt* out of my love life."  
  
Alexis frowned. "Ha, ha, Lansing," she replied sarcastically. "Very funny."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The Loft  
  
The invitation arrived in the mail this morning. And for the twenty minutes after she had   
  
discovered it amongst the usual drabble of bills and junk mail, she had stared at it as though it   
  
was sure to carry the plague. She knew what it was the moment her eyes fell on it. Crisp   
  
handmade paper, dark blue and turquoise piping… it was the invitation for Elizabeth's gallery   
  
showing.  
  
She hadn't even wanted to read it, but she had… maybe it was because of that 'secret'   
  
masochistic side of her psyche… the one that seemed to crave pain. The words were cordial and   
  
direct:  
  
Elizabeth Corinthos, respectfully requests the presence of Ms. Courtney Matthews and Mr. Jason   
  
Morgan at the first unveiling of her creative talents in the Schmidt Gallery, New York City on   
  
Friday evening of the 14th of June, 2005 at 6:00 p.m.  
  
Courtney couldn't help but smirk sarcastically at the word 'respectfully' glaring back at her in navy   
  
blue calligraphy. **Yeah right!**  
  
But Courtney was torn. Although they had not been on the best of terms for a while, Elizabeth   
  
was still her niece, and although she wanted to strangle her more times than not, she loved her,   
  
and was proud of her. Not like she would ever tell the spiteful bitch to her face! She wanted to   
  
go… yet she didn't. But she was not thinking along the lines of how Liz probably didn't really want   
  
her there, but more along the lines of the fact that the invitation had also named Jason…   
  
meaning, Liz wanted to see Jason.  
  
**Of course she wants to see him! She always wants to see him.**  
  
More importantly, her mind pointed out while she tried to swallow the huge lump of emotion that   
  
had suddenly become stuck in her throat, he still wanted to see her.  
  
Just then, she could hear the jungle of keys in the locks. **Jason! Shit!** she tried stuffing the   
  
invitation back into the envelope before he could see it, but just as she had succeeded in stuffing   
  
it in, the door swung open and Jason trudged in.  
  
Courtney smiled at him, hoping to God she didn't look guilty.  
  
Jason's brow furrowed. "What d'you got there?" he asked, pointing out the envelope balled in her   
  
hand as he hung his jacket up.  
  
She was tempted to say "Bill," the statement guaranteed to make him leave the subject alone, but   
  
she had a feeling he already knew what it was.   
  
"It's the invitation to Elizabeth's gallery opening," she replied, holding it out to him.   
  
He took it from her, his eyes widening as he read the words. Obviously he hadn't been expecting   
  
Liz to invite both him and Courtney. Jason looked up to find her watching him intently. "Are you   
  
gonna go?"  
  
"Yes." **Shit!** Courtney could kick herself. The answer was automatic. "Are you?" **Double   
  
shit!**  
  
Jason looked away, his countenance thoughtful. He seemed to be weighing his answer… testing   
  
his response in his head. He looked up. "Yeah."  
  
**Ouch!** Courtney nodded even as she turned away from him.   
  
Yup, she was such a masochist.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
New York City  
  
"Toreno."  
  
"You little bastard!"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Elizabeth let loose with a string of Spanish curse words, so loud and caustic that Daniel had to   
  
hold the receiver away from his ear.  
  
"Are you done yet?" he asked mildly, when Elizabeth had paused to breathe.  
  
"Don't get cocky with me! What the hell did you do?"  
  
"Elizabeth, calm down. What in God's name are you talking about?"  
  
"Don't patronize me, bato! What the hell did you do with my tickets?"  
  
"I mailed them."  
  
"You what?!"  
  
"I mailed them," he repeated.  
  
"Why the hell would you do that for?"  
  
"Why does it matter? I sent the invitations out so that they would get to Port Charles on time.   
  
Obviously they weren't that important to you since you only realized they were missing today,   
  
*two* days before the opening."  
  
Liz's mouth clicked audibly shut.  
  
"By the way… what is up with that? I was expecting this tirade at least two days ago…."  
  
"Nothing is up with that –"  
  
"Don't gimme that bull, Liz. We both know perfectly well you weren't gonna send them early   
  
because you were hoping that they would get there too late for anyone to make it into the city."  
  
Liz's silence provided him with his answer.  
  
"Don't worry, sweetheart. That most certainly won't be the case. Cause guess what?"  
  
"What?" she asked hesitantly.  
  
"I sent extras." Daniel set the receiver on the cradle before Liz could unleash her temper anew.   
  
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Liz chanted. **I'm gonna kill that little prick!**  
  
**No, you're not** the other half of her conscience shot back.  
  
Inwardly, she smiled. Her family was gonna be coming to New York. Nikolas and Emily, Stefan,   
  
Ric, Kristina, Alexis… **Shit!** Sonny, Courtney **Fucking hell!** Jason….  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: I hope you've enjoyed the preview to the Liason chapter… though I'm not sure just how that   
  
aspect will play out, so please don't expect any fluffy romance, 'cause it's very doubtful it would   
  
happen. Read and review though, folks. Ciao!  
  
P.S: next chapter might take a while… want to make it good for you guys. 


	13. Chapter 13

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 13  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: Thank you for the last chapter's comments… It's a catch-22 for my feelings – I'm glad some   
  
of you like the Daniel character, but hate me for the lack of Liason…. Well, I hope you enjoy this   
  
chapter.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Schmidt Gallery, New York City (Elizabeth's gallery showing)  
  
She wore red.  
  
More specifically, fire engine red. But, because he was practically colourblind, he couldn't tell the   
  
difference between the hues. All his mind could sort out was that her dress, as the satin lovingly   
  
cupped and skimmed every curve on her body, screamed, "Fuck me!"  
  
Jason's eyes narrowed as he watched a dark-haired man pull Elizabeth closer to his side, his   
  
hand possessively gripping her ribbon waist. Seemed to him, that's exactly what *he* was doing.  
  
Jason quietly cursed and turned away from them, heading to the bar in the corner, trying hard to   
  
ignore the waves of unusual jealousy splashing over him.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Of course, she'd seen him the moment her family stepped through the door.   
  
Kept a subconscious look out for him even as Alexis and Ric made a bee-line for her, enveloping   
  
her in hugs, while her father awkwardly hung back, and even further apart was an uncomfortable   
  
looking Courtney, stunning in a winter-white sheath. While he looked absolutely delectable, his   
  
suit looked as though it was suffocating him, and she mentally counted off the seconds before he   
  
stuck a finger under his collar in an effort to breathe. For those few seconds, she could've cursed   
  
Daniel for talking her into making it a black-tie affair.  
  
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.  
  
Magically materializing at her side, his large hand a slightly uncomfortable presence on her hip.   
  
He sucked all her attention from Jason with that one move as he gallantly kissed Alexis's hand in   
  
remembrance and returned Ric's firm handshake.   
  
When she remembered to peek for him again, he was gone and Courtney and her father were   
  
heading her way.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Of course she would look beautiful tonight. After all, it was *her* night. The chance to at least   
  
reap a few benefits after all the hard work she'd put in.  
  
But yet again, the green-eyed monster couldn't help but raise its ugly head again as she gazed at   
  
her niece, even with Jason's warmth a comforting presence beside her.  
  
She didn't have to be so damned beautiful!  
  
Courtney watched as every male in the room seemed to be magnetically drawn toward Elizabeth.   
  
She didn't even have to peek out the corner of her eye to tell that Jason's eyes were glued to her.   
  
One man in particular was drawn towards her. She watched with a hooded gaze as he   
  
enunciated himself into Elizabeth's personal space, his arm sliding possessively around her   
  
waist.   
  
Courtney's heart soared.  
  
Jason cursed beside her.  
  
It plummeted back into her Jimmy Choos.  
  
Sonny whispered into her ear, "Ven, querida. Let's go."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
She was the most beautiful girl in the room.   
  
Most beautiful *girl* because, of course, Alexis took the cake for most beautiful *woman* in the   
  
room.  
  
Even with all his misgivings about coming to the city to the opening when things were still so   
  
fragile between them, he couldn't help but thank God that he had.  
  
Pride at his daughter's accomplishments barreled through his chest the moment he set eyes on   
  
the petite dark-haired princess, holding court amongst her peers.   
  
A wisp of a smile graced his face as he watched his fiancée and brother swallow her in hugs and   
  
kisses, even as he hung back.   
  
She looked happy… for once.  
  
He looked to his left, to the couple that had hung back with him… outsiders of sort. Jason and   
  
Courtney.  
  
Both seemingly so happy, standing so close to one another they could probably hear each other   
  
inhale and exhale in the din of the crowded room.   
  
But on closer inspection, one came to the conclusion that looks were certainly deceiving. Neither   
  
looked at each other…. An invisible fence had been erected the moment they stepped foot into   
  
the room and laid eyes on Elizabeth.  
  
On whom their eyes were glued.  
  
Sonny wished he were a mind reader, able to hear what was running through their heads. But the   
  
levels of emotions flitting across their faces as they stared at his daughter gave him a pretty good   
  
idea.  
  
Lust.  
  
Jealousy. Times two.  
  
His gaze swung back to his daughter just in time to see a dark-haired man practically join himself   
  
at the hip to Liz. Sonny's eyebrows skyrocketed.  
  
His gaze swung back to Jason and Courtney.  
  
His best friend cursed quietly and turned away, heading for the bar.   
  
Courtney sighed.  
  
He slid closer to her side. "Ven querida," he spoke, hoping she couldn't hear the sympathy in his   
  
voice as he steered her toward the Corinthos crowd. "Let's go."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
(Two hours later)  
  
She'd finally managed to escape.  
  
For three hours, she had played the dutiful hostess, pasting the plastic smile onto her face each   
  
time Daniel or Connie introduced her to someone new. Critics, potential buyers, admirers… it   
  
wouldn't pay to be grouchy tonight. First impressions were always important. Tonight, she would   
  
have to make enough lasting contacts to jumpstart her career.  
  
There had been a few genuinely pleasant moments during the night when Nikolas had tackled   
  
her in a bear hug and her Uncle Stefan had kissed her affectionately on both cheeks. She hadn't   
  
been expecting them – Alexis had told her they were in London attending a board meeting – and   
  
had been pleasantly surprised when she'd gotten her bearing back.  
  
Of course when the crowd realized that the artist was none other than a Cassidine princess, the   
  
had descended on her in droves, and she had only been able to extricate herself from their   
  
clutches when Daniel had called her away for the unveiling.  
  
Now two hours later, Liz had slipped off her pumps and was tiptoeing down the dimly lit corridors   
  
to the other un-used Gallery rooms in a desperate search for at least a moment's privacy.   
  
Cautiously she peeked around the corner of a dimly lit room at the end of the room, ensuring that   
  
no one had had the same idea as she, and slipped quietly into the room.  
  
"Taking a break?"  
  
Elizabeth gasped and whirled to face the speaker.  
  
From the shadows he emerged.   
  
Jason.  
  
He came towards her. Stopping about a foot away from her and leaning against a tall art-deco   
  
sculpture, a long tapered glass of beer dangling from his fingers.   
  
Her stiletto heels threatened to slip from her fingers as she gazed at him. The first time she had   
  
been close to him in almost two months.  
  
**God, he looked good.**  
  
Dark grey, almost black, suit that fitted him to perfection, crisp white shirt and the dreaded silver-  
  
grey silk tie. Automatically her eyes dropped to his feet. Classic wingtips in shiny black leather. A   
  
rueful smile graced her face. **Somebody went shoe shopping** she mused, remembering that   
  
time so long ago when he had only owned his motorcycle boots.   
  
Finally dragging her gaze back to his, which remained steadily trained on hers, she nodded. "You   
  
nearly scared the pants off me," she added ruefully.  
  
Behind the cool blue gaze, desire flared and kicked him in the gut at the image of Elizabeth naked   
  
that suddenly popped into his head. "I'm sorry," he apologized.   
  
Liz nodded, trying to ignore the fluttering in her belly, the softening of her nether regions as she   
  
inhaled the scent that was uniquely his, the lump in her throat as she watched him raise the glass   
  
to his lips and take a sip of the expensive imported beer Daniel was paying for.   
  
She looked away and moved farther into the room. "What about you?" she asked, turning to him   
  
again she sat on a lighted pedestal.   
  
"Crowds," he replied, closing the good five feet of distance she had created to one again.  
  
"You cut your hair," he suddenly spoke up. His hands were itching to reach out to the errant girl   
  
that slipped into her face.  
  
Liz blushed as she tucked the curl behind her ear as she remembered how in a sudden fit of rage   
  
when she had just gotten home from PC she had butchered it with the paper scissors. The first   
  
thing she had done on her second good day was pay a visit to Paul Mitchell for a more   
  
'structured' haircut. "Yes. Got sick of the long hair," she lied.  
  
Jason lifted an eyebrow. He knew she loved her hair. She had only drastically cut it once before –   
  
when she was angry with Lucky and being the Face of Deception. He said nothing.  
  
Liz cleared her throat. "I'm glad you came." She grinned ruefully as his eyebrow shot up again.   
  
"Really I am. It's nice to have people I know and…" she paused, "love here with me."  
  
"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," he replied truthfully.  
  
"Thank you," she replied, a genuine smile dazzling her face.   
  
Jason nodded in reply.   
  
The silence carried on between them as the muffled din of the crowded room continued.  
  
"Is it that bad out there?" he asked.  
  
Elizabeth's knee immediately stopped bouncing. "Is it that obvious?"  
  
"I *know* you," Jason replied.   
  
That, he did.   
  
"It's like a nest of vipers out there," she finally admitted.   
  
"How so?" he asked.  
  
Liz sighed, meeting his gaze in the near darkness. "They all want a piece of me. I suppose I   
  
should feel flattered, but all I feel is smothered…you know?"  
  
Jason smirked. "Yeah…."  
  
"I guess I now understand why most artists would want to be left alone." She sighed again,   
  
playing with the flirty hem of the "Fuck me!" dress.   
  
"You don't have to go back out there." Inwardly he was shocked. **Where the hell did that come   
  
from?**   
  
Liz's eyes snapped up to meet his. The confusion swirling in the sapphire depths showed him she   
  
didn't quite know what to make of that statement… and also, the temptation to take him up on his   
  
offer.   
  
"Nah…" she replied softly, her gaze holding his. "I can't just skip out…. Any minute know   
  
someone's gonna come looking for –"  
  
"Liz!"  
  
Liz jumped, her gaze darting to the door. It was Daniel.  
  
Footsteps echoed towards them and she shot to her feet just as Daniel snapped on the   
  
fluorescent lighting overhead.  
  
"There you are." Daniel paused and looked at the couple that, up until a few seconds ago had   
  
been alone in the relative darkness of the room.   
  
Liz stepped away from Jason, but she was still close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his   
  
body.  
  
Daniel's eyebrow lifted pointedly.   
  
Black eyes met blue.  
  
Liz was most definitely caught in the middle.  
  
Jason's eyes narrowed as he recognized the man as her promoter, the man who had stuck to her   
  
side most of the night.   
  
Liz struggled to make peace between the silent hostility. "Daniel," she said, as her lover/promoter   
  
strode toward them.  
  
"I don't believe I've met your *friend*, Elizabeth," he spoke as he neared them. "Daniel Toreno,"   
  
he introduced, extending his hand.  
  
For a second, she thought Jason wasn't going to return the handshake. "Jason Morgan," he   
  
replied, noting the flicker of comprehension that dawned in the other man's eyes.  
  
"I hate to break this little tête-à-tête up, but the critic from the New Yorker is looking for you."  
  
Jason's empathetic gaze flicked to her face. He knew she didn't really feel like going back out   
  
there. He shrewdly noted as she pasted the plastic smile on her face and accepted the hand that   
  
Daniel offered.   
  
"Of course," she replied. She turned to Jason. "Thanks, Jas. I'll see you later?" she asked   
  
hopefully.  
  
Jason nodded. "Sure." Tried not to snap the glass as Daniel wrapped his arm around her waist,   
  
fingers sliding against the slick "Fuck me!" satin as he led Liz away from him.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
He'd barely spoken to her tonight. Neither of their faults… people kept steering her attention away   
  
from him, but at least she had been civil. And had even kissed his cheek in greeting. She had   
  
wanted to talk to him about something, but she hadn't had the time to do so tonight, but she had   
  
smiled her special smile at him, so whatever it was, it was good.  
  
Sonny's heart felt about ten tons lighter as he chatted with Stefan and Ric about something or the   
  
other and watched Alexis from across the room as she chatted with the curator and some former   
  
colleagues.  
  
Just then, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He excused himself from the conversation and   
  
turned to Johnny, who handed him a cell phone.  
  
"Corinthos."  
  
It was Benny.   
  
As his accountant relayed the information to him, dread returned to his features threefold.  
  
They had a problem.  
  
Another one of his employees was dead.  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: Not as much Liason as I would've like myself, but something's better than nothing. I hope   
  
you enjoyed. R&R folks and let me know what you thought. 


	14. Chapter 14

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 14  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: Thank you for last chapter's comments. 'Too little Liason' some of you said, but never fear,   
  
that's what I'm here for, enjoy….  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Are you barefoot?" asked Daniel incredulously, pausing in mid stride.   
  
Liz paused besides him and looked down. Sure enough her bare feet with her perfectly pedicured   
  
toes looked up at her. Her apologetic gaze met his. "I'll be right back," she promised, turning   
  
around and heading back to the room.  
  
He was still there. He had shut off the lights again and he stood there, brooding as only he could   
  
do, nursing his beer. She couldn't help but pause by the threshold and enjoy his masculine   
  
beauty for a few seconds. But, as usual, he sensed her presence.  
  
His head swiveled to her, pinning her with his blue-eyed gaze. "Back so soon?" he asked, with a   
  
rare half smile.  
  
She approached him slowly, an embarrassed smile on her face as she pointed to the pedestal   
  
where she'd been sitting. "I forgot my shoes," she explained, bending down to pick up the sexy   
  
flowered spike heels.  
  
Jason inhaled with a hiss. In bending down, she had presented him with an incredible view of her   
  
backside. And he had hung around Carly enough to know that if there was no VPL showing   
  
through that "Fuck me!" satin, Liz either had to be wearing the skimpiest G-string known to man   
  
or was going commando. He didn't think his body could take much of either thought.  
  
Liz's popped back up and she swung to him in concern. "Are you ok?"  
  
He nodded. He was only human… and *male*, so therefore weaker from the get go; he didn't think   
  
he had the strength or ability to speak.  
  
"You sure?" she asked leaning against the pedestal to put back on the shoe. She was struggling.   
  
The "Fuck me!" satin wasn't very helpful. She had put on the shoes in the Gallery right before the   
  
first guest had arrived at the party; Connie had had to help her buckle them. She couldn't very   
  
well go back out there with her shoes unbuckled, that was almost as bad as being barefoot. But   
  
she needed to get the shoes on before Daniel came looking for her again.   
  
"Need some help?" Jason asked from his position in front of her.   
  
She blushed. **Typical** she thought ruefully. **Jason always comes to rescue, even if it's just to   
  
buckle my stupid shoe.**  
  
He came towards her. Jason set his beer glass on the pedestal and much to her surprise, pushed   
  
her shoulders slightly, urging her to sit. Before Liz could say anything, he sank to his haunches   
  
and picked up her foot in his large warm hand.  
  
Elizabeth jumped at the electricity that crackled through her body, radiating from the point where   
  
his fingers wrapped gently yet firmly around her toes.   
  
Blue met blue. Jason looked away first, bending to the task at hand. He slid her foot more firmly   
  
into the shoe and took the delicate ankle strap and gently wrapped it around the fragile looking   
  
bone of her ankle and fastened it. He let the foot slip from his hand, secretly enjoying her slight   
  
shiver when his fingers accidentally grazed her calf.  
  
Elizabeth wished he would just hurry up and buckle the damned shoe.  
  
Jason wished buckling a shoe wasn't so damned quick.  
  
He picked up the other shoe, and taking her right foot under the arch, slid it into the shoe, his   
  
fingers trailing across the delicate skin as he wrapped the strap around her ankle, barely resisting   
  
the urge to kiss her ankle, and buckled it.   
  
Task complete.  
  
He still held her foot.  
  
Was she trembling?  
  
He slowly let the foot slid from his hands as he came up to his knees.   
  
Neither of them was thinking. About Courtney, about Daniel, about obligations, about family…   
  
about nothing, save the fact that some things never changed and his hands on her skin felt so   
  
*damned* good.  
  
"What are we doing?" Elizabeth whispered so quietly, he wasn't sure she had spoken.  
  
"Elizabeth!" Daniel called from the hallway. "You lost the shoes?" he asked sarcastically. Liz could   
  
hear the jealousy in his voice.   
  
Elizabeth did what she wanted to for the past two years. She bent and kissed him. Really kissed   
  
him. It wasn't some figment of her imagination, some fantasy that always ended with her fingers   
  
under the covers in the dark. Her mouth covered his, soft and warm and fragrant. She touched no   
  
other part of him, even as his tongue snaked out to meet hers and his teeth grazed her bottom lip.   
  
All too soon she pulled away.   
  
Footsteps coming down the hall.  
  
She stood up and moved away from him, hurrying to the threshold to meet Daniel before he could   
  
intrude again.  
  
Jason watched subconsciously as she hurried to the threshold, pausing to look back at him, her   
  
blue eyes huge surprise and desire, a lock of wavy dark hair falling provocatively into her face   
  
before she turned and hurried away, her stiletto heels beating a rapid staccato on the   
  
granite floors.   
  
Jason looked down at himself… Uh-oh. He swallowed the desire in his throat and stood up,   
  
automatically fixing himself, urging his obvious desire to subside.   
  
He hadn't been thinking… hadn't even given his fiancée, who was in the same building, a second   
  
thought when he had picked up Elizabeth's foot in his hands.  
  
**What the fuck had happened here tonight?**  
  
He didn't know, but he had a feeling this wasn't going to be the last of it.  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: Just a short chapter with some Liason goodness… I hope you enjoyed. A longer chapter will   
  
be up soon some time next week. Courtney bashers will get a nice chapter especially for you   
  
coming soon. R&R, tell me what you thought. 


	15. Chapter 15

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 15  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: Thank you very much for last chapter's comments; I really appreciated them. I have one   
  
problem: reviewers with 'aol' email accounts on my email list, for some reason, I can't seem to   
  
send you 'chapter update' notices – they keep getting sent back for some reason or the other.   
  
Just letting you know so you don't think I'm slighting you in any way. Well, on to the show…   
  
enjoy!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
New York City  
  
Johnny had found him and, by the look on the guard's face, something was wrong. He beckoned   
  
for Jason and he followed him from the solitude of the backroom without a word. The din of the   
  
main room hit him in the gut like a bowling ball and it took he could not to cover his ears with his   
  
hands as he strode toward his best friend and partner.  
  
Sonny's face and eyes were grim.  
  
"What's wrong?" asked Jason.  
  
"We've got another one," he answered.  
  
  
  
Jason looked away with disbelief. "Who?" he asked.  
  
"Patrick Silverman. He was a –"  
  
"Guard," cut in Jason. "I know."  
  
Silverman worked the nightshift along Pier 52, one of Sonny's strongholds. He was a tall   
  
imposing man, honest and hardworking, with a family of five mouths to feed. Jason could see the   
  
regret in Sonny's eyes.  
  
"How?"  
  
"Multiple stab wounds to the chest."  
  
"So what now?" he asked.  
  
"We go back to PC tonight. I need to get to the bottom of this," he replied with a trace of regret.   
  
They had all had reservations at the Marriott for the night but now…. His eyes sought out Alexis   
  
in the crowded room, finding her talking to a critic for People Magazine, her infectious laughter   
  
ringing out at some amusing thing the man had just said. She would be disappointed, but she of   
  
all people would understand. "I'll go tell Alexis. Find Courtney," he added, heading towards his   
  
fiancée.  
  
**Find Courtney…** Easier said than done, he realized looking around the crowded room.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Alexis," he whispered in her ear softly.   
  
The tone of his voice and the look in his eye warned her that something was wrong. She excused   
  
herself from the conversation and stepped away. "What's wrong?" she asked concerned,   
  
threading her fingers in his.  
  
"Someone else is dead."  
  
"Oh no." Alexis looked away, dread colouring her features.  
  
"Jason and I need to go back to PC tonight," he continued.  
  
"Ok, let me just tell Ric and Elizabeth and I'll leave with you."  
  
"No," Sonny shook his head. "Stay here with Elizabeth."  
  
"Sonny…" she trailed off pointedly. "I don't want you to do anything rash."  
  
"I'm not going to do anything rash. I just need to see this for myself."  
  
Alexis studied his features. She could see the guilt lurking in the shadows of the chocolate pools.   
  
More than likely, he would be paying the victim's family a visit tonight, a duty he would not relish   
  
but he would do nonetheless. She nodded slowly, though reluctantly. "Ok," she conceded. "Try to   
  
keep your temper with Taggart," she continued seriously.  
  
Sonny flashed his dimples albeit reluctantly. "Don't I always?" he asked, kissing her firmly on the   
  
lips.  
  
She smiled softly as he pulled away and turned from her. "Sonny," she called. He turned back.   
  
"Try not to let this eat you up inside, ok?"  
  
Sonny paused, never breaking her gaze before nodding in acknowledgement.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
He eventually found her, standing by the bar, nursing an apple martini, a favourite of late. She   
  
looked sad and despondent, sitting alone at the bar, her long blonde hair and golden curtain   
  
blocking her face. He laid a warm hand against the cool smooth skin of her shoulder, and she   
  
jumped in surprise, before swinging toward him.  
  
Guilt him like a wrecking ball. She was sitting so sad and lonely out here, while his lips were still   
  
tingling from Elizabeth's kiss.  
  
"Jason! You nearly scared the pants off me!"  
  
He felt guiltier, not because he was going to have to skip out on her, but because the statement   
  
had not sent any delicious images shooting into his head.   
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Courtney's brow furrowed. "What's wrong?" she asked.   
  
"I have to go back to Port Charles, tonight."  
  
She set her drink down. "What happened? Is everything alright?"  
  
"No… another of our employees was murdered."  
  
Courtney's breath left her in a whoosh.   
  
"I know we had planned a special night for just the two of us, but I'll make it up to you later, I   
  
promise."  
  
Courtney smiled shakily. He had made so many promises to make up to her in the past… none   
  
were filled. She kissed his cheek. "Be careful," she implored.   
  
"I promise." He affectionately tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and turned to join   
  
Sonny and Johnny who were waiting impatiently by the door.   
  
Courtney watched as the three men exited the building. Someone else was watching. Liz's eyes   
  
were glued to Jason as they left. She looked up and caught Courtney looking at her before she   
  
hastily dropped her gaze. Courtney narrowed her eyes and took a healthy gulp of her drink,   
  
draining her glass,  
  
She hadn't been surprised because of Jason… she had thought it was Elizabeth.   
  
He smelt like her… he stunk of her perfume!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Something was up.  
  
She had been mixed up in the Mafia long enough to know when something was up. She saw it in   
  
her father's body language while he spoke to her mother, in Johnny's stance as he waited for his   
  
bosses, in Courtney's look of concern for Jason while he obviously told her what was going on.  
  
She watched Jason as he switched in Enforcer mode as the three men exited the building. She   
  
sent a prayer to God for their safety and hoped no one had seen her staring.  
  
No such luck. She looked up to see her aunt staring at her intently. She dropped her gaze hastily   
  
and turned away.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
(12:00 a.m.)  
  
The ride in Sonny's limo to the Marriott was a quiet one. Alexis and Courtney on opposite seats,   
  
facing one another in their own corners. Each woman was trying hard not to scream in concern   
  
for the man they loved. Alexis looked over at the woman who was going to be her sister-in-law in   
  
few short months. She had known of Courtney, known how important she had become to Sonny,   
  
but had never become close to her, hesitant to be caught in the middle between her and   
  
Elizabeth. Much as it might plague her daughter to admit, Courtney loved Jason and he loved her   
  
in return… in his own way. They deserved to be happy. But now, Courtney just looked plain   
  
miserable.   
  
"He'll be ok, you know," Alexis said, breaking the silence.  
  
Both Courtney and Liz turned to her in surprise.   
  
Ric raised an eyebrow. Courtney flushed. "Is it that obvious?" she asked.  
  
Alexis smiled ruefully. "I recognize the signs."  
  
Ric rolled his eyes.   
  
"Don't worry," she continued. "Jason won't let Sonny do anything stupid."  
  
Courtney sighed and looked out the window. "I hope so. But in this life… you never can be too   
  
certain," she continued cryptically.  
  
This time Alexis's eyebrow shot up and she looked to Ric pointedly.  
  
Ric shrugged. He didn't have a clue what that statement meant either.   
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Elizabeth's apartment, 1:00 a.m.  
  
"So, Jason Morgan, huh?" Daniel asked, kissing her shoulder gently. The two lay cocooned in the   
  
sheets on Elizabeth's bed, their bodies still slick with sweat after she had practically thrown   
  
herself at Daniel in a misguided attempt to get the image of Jason out of her head. It had   
  
worked… for a while… but Daniel was just a substitute, a mere flicker to the inferno she knew   
  
would ignite if she and Jason ever got together… in reality.   
  
And now he had brought those same images swimming into her psyche the moment he said his   
  
name.   
  
Liz gathered the sheets closer about her and sat up. "What about him?" she asked.   
  
"I didn't know you were such good friends…. You two seemed mighty cozy in that backroom all   
  
by yourselves."  
  
Liz's gaze jerked toward him, seeing the jealousy swimming unabashedly in his eyes, hoping that   
  
he couldn't see the desire – for Jason – swimming in hers. "Can we not talk about my father's   
  
business partner?" she asked.   
  
Daniel's eyebrows shot up at that and he opened his mouth, obviously meaning to say more, but   
  
Liz cut him off… with her mouth.  
  
"Just drop it, Toreno," she whispered against his lips.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Port Charles.  
  
It had taken them an hour to fly from New York City to Port Charles in Sonny's private jet and   
  
they had arrived on the scene to find it crawling with the PCPD. It had taken all his self-control not   
  
to punch out Taggart as he tried to guilt-trip him about the guard's death. Only Alexis's plea for   
  
him to watch his temper around the bald-headed detective kept him out of the holding cell for   
  
police assault.   
  
After leaving the crime scene, he had personally made the trip to the victim's house. Keeping his   
  
composure while his widow wailed and railed against him and what he stood for before he offered   
  
his condolences and the promise that he would to everything in his power to find out who did this   
  
to her husband and make them pay.   
  
Now, back at the penthouse, his shoulder felt as though they were about fifty pounds heavier and   
  
he felt about fifty years older. Someone was trying to get to him, and was killing off his employees   
  
in order to do that. He wracked his brains to come up with some idea as to whom would do this,   
  
but the task was pointless. He was the head of the PC Mob; the most powerful mob-boss on the   
  
Eastern Seaboard – he had more enemies than the United States government.   
  
Sonny sighed and took a sip of the first bourbon he had had in weeks. There was a new guy in   
  
town… he felt sure of it… and he was out to get Sonny Corinthos.   
  
Question is… why?  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: What do you think? Did you enjoy? Drop me a line and let me know, I'd love to hear from   
  
you.  
  
P.S: Skipper took of her wedding ring today (2003.12.03)! Could the end be near? If only Liz   
  
would stay away from that sociopath Ric, everything would be so great and Liz and Jason could   
  
spend Christmas together! 


	16. Chapter 16

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 16  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: On 2003/12/12 Sonny was acquitted of attempted murder charges… that made me happy,   
  
but then the scene at Kelly's between Sonny, Ric and Elizabeth made me want to hurl. They have   
  
made her character into someone that, if prophesized she would turn out this way a year ago, she   
  
would have slapped them silly. Yuck! Anyways, onto bigger brighter things, thank you very much   
  
for your reviews. I appreciate them greatly. Now, on with the story….  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Port Charles  
  
Long after the last police squad car had exited the scene, Jason Morgan stood behind the bright   
  
yellow crime scene tape, staring at the morbid chalk outline of the now removed prone body of a   
  
man who had once been alive and breathing not four hours prior.   
  
As the cool river breeze blew off the river, he was caught up in his thoughts in all that had   
  
transpired business wise since Taggliatti's death – at his own hand. He had been skeptical at first   
  
on taking on Taggliatti's former employees, but even he had to admit that the extra staff had been   
  
a great financial profit. Things were running relatively smoothly – there was no hassle from the   
  
majority of the workers. Productivity was high and he and Sonny were making a shitload of   
  
money.   
  
But obviously someone was out to make things even harder than usual for them. Part of him   
  
wondered if the five families were somehow responsible for all the trouble but, at the same time,   
  
since Taggliatti's death, none of them had dared to cross Sonny or intervene on his plans in any   
  
way, fearing of course the wrath of the Corinthos-Morgan duo.  
  
He stood behind the tape, watching the chalk outline, the still sticky blood spattered on the   
  
pavement. He would not step within those boundaries; breach the scene in any way. He didn't   
  
want to jeopardize the scene – a first for him with his esteemed lack of consideration for the   
  
PCPD. But he would do it this once. Because, for the first time, when he had stood beside Sonny   
  
when they had confronted the man's widow and she had castigated Sonny, he had felt the true   
  
extent of the sting from her caustic words. And it hurt…  
  
Jason Morgan never hurt…  
  
No. That was a lie.  
  
He seemed to be doing that a lot recently.  
  
He fished out his cellphone and turned away from the crime scene. He would have to find his   
  
information another way somehow.   
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Port Charles  
  
From the relative safety of his apartment, Lyle dialed the telephone he had committed to memory.   
  
After only the first ring, the man picked up.  
  
"Yes?" he asked coldly, his caller-ID disclosing the caller.  
  
"We did the guard," Lyle announced.  
  
"Who's *we*?" the man inquired.  
  
"Yates and I. Gutted him like a fish."  
  
He could hear the pleased smirk in Lyle's voice. "I trust you were clean."  
  
"Sure. Yates is pro. Ain't a hair or fingerprint in sight."  
  
"Good. I trust you have everything else under control. Corinthos isn't stupid. It's only a matter of   
  
time before he starts suspecting my brother's former employees."  
  
"We got everything under control."  
  
"See that you do," he replied before terminating the call.  
  
Lyle scowled at the phone. "Snobby bastard."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
New York City  
  
Daniel had left an hour after she had shut him up with her lips. She'd been glad to see him go.   
  
She wanted to be alone. To think about her actions – she had kissed Jason Morgan! And now,   
  
she ached. She ached for his touch, for his kiss. She had gotten a small taste of it again tonight   
  
and she was a little shamed to admit that her body craved it even more. He had left her with a   
  
tingling awareness, a fire that she had sought to quench in Daniel, but the conflagration still   
  
blazed deep within her body. Her actions were selfish and thoughtless but governed by instinct…   
  
but she couldn't help picturing Jason's face above hers while Daniel drove his body into her over   
  
and over again.  
  
Elizabeth groaned and slipped out of bed. She was naked and the cool air of the apartment felt   
  
good over her overheated body. She padded over to the kitchen area and took a bottle from the   
  
refrigerator, running its condensed cool over her forehead before taking a refreshing gulp. She   
  
felt so alive, alert… creative.  
  
She thought about getting her robe, but the thought of painting nude in the light was so alluring,   
  
so sensual. She didn't even have the grace to blush at her thoughts. She found herself slowly   
  
trailing her brush over the rough canvas, not even certain what she was painting, but when she   
  
gazed more thoroughly at the painting it hit her. She was painting *him* - in passionate reds and   
  
gold which melded into soft blues and purples. Every colour was significant… it was passion and   
  
desire – for Jason.  
  
A sudden shift of resolve overtook her and she found herself striding, naked as the day she was   
  
born back to her bed. She threw on an oversize T-shirt and reached for the telephone. Before she   
  
could lose her nerve, she dialed a number she knew by heart, a number that haunted her   
  
thoughts. It rang once, twice, three times before a slightly groggy voice answered: "Morgan."  
  
Liz paused, not sure what next to do. "Hi," she replied softly.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Three hundred miles away, Jason sat bolt upright in bed. The cotton sheets fell away from his   
  
body exposing smooth golden skin and his washboard stomach. "Elizabeth?" he asked surprised   
  
as to why she was calling. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"No," she clarified. "I wanted to talk to you… *needed* to talk to you. About tonight… about the   
  
kiss."  
  
Jason frowned, expecting her to express her regret. He wasn't sure how he would handle that.  
  
"I'm not sorry," she rushed on, her voice gaining strength as it continued. "I've wanted to do that   
  
for two years. To touch you and taste you. I know it was wrong, I know that you love Courtney   
  
and I should respect that, but I'm tired of denying myself something that I really want." Jason went   
  
to speak, but she stopped him, "I don't know how you feel. Quite frankly I don't think you know   
  
what you feel either, but I needed you to know, I don't regret it."  
  
"Neither do I."   
  
Jason's softly uttered words gave her pause. "What?" she whispered softly.  
  
"I don't regret it either, Elizabeth. You're right. I don't know what I want. I love Courtney, honestly I   
  
do. But a part of me has never stopped loving you. Tonight proved it. You've been in my   
  
thoughts, in my dreams ever since you came back to PC. I knew you hadn't stopped loving me,   
  
but I saw red tonight with Toreno. To see how he touched you liked he owned you…I was   
  
jealous. And it isn't fair. It isn't fair that I want to have both Courtney and you but I only want you   
  
to want *me*."  
  
Elizabeth was floored by his words. "What are you saying Jason?"  
  
Jason sighed on the other side. "I'm saying I'm in big trouble, Elizabeth, because I can't get you   
  
out of my mind."  
  
"I want to see you." The words were out of her mouth faster than she could think. But she couldn't   
  
take them back.  
  
Jason paused; knowing what he chose to say next would have a lasting effect on three people.   
  
"When?" he asked softly.  
  
"Can you get into the city tomorrow?" she asked.  
  
"Sure."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
She knew Francis was somewhere shadow-walking her, but she tried not to let it show that his   
  
presence bothered her. They had come to a compromise of sorts – it was his job to ensure that   
  
she was safe but he would try to ensure that she had as much privacy as possible. But how was   
  
she possible to have any privacy to do what she was going to do this afternoon?  
  
Elizabeth had exited her apartment at eleven thirty and now proceeded to the end of the street   
  
where she made a right and then a left before ducking into Pinoni's Pizzeria on the pretense of   
  
having lunch. The waitress seated her and from the corner of her eye, she watched her   
  
bodyguard step into the diner and sit at the counter where he could keep a watchful eye on her.   
  
Biting the bullet she waved him over. He frowned slightly but strode toward his charge. "Yes, Ms.   
  
Corinthos… Elizabeth," he corrected at her look.   
  
"Sit down, Francis." The bulky bodyguard sat down opposite her.   
  
"Two hours," she stated.   
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Two hours, Francis. Two hours, without you following me."  
  
"I can't do that, Elizabeth."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because it is my job to ensure that you are protected. I can't do that unless I'm there. Besides, if   
  
I let you out of my sight, your father would kill me."  
  
Liz couldn't help but smile. "I promise I won't get you into trouble. It's not like I want to knock off a   
  
bank or fly to Cancun. I just want two hours to myself to do whatever the hell I want. I know you   
  
try to give me my privacy, but it doesn't work because I always know you're there." When it   
  
looked as though he would interrupt again she hurriedly continued, "Listen, gimme two hours to   
  
do my thing and I'll meet you back here. Please?"   
  
If he didn't give in, she would have to resort to bribery. She was already begging.  
  
"Why?" he asked.  
  
"Do I have to into that whole diatribe again, Francis? I thought I just explained how I would like to   
  
get out of this fishbowl I call life for a couple hours. How would you feel if I followed you   
  
everywhere you went?" Her words were meant to instill a little guilt.  
  
He felt it.  
  
"Two hours?" he asked reluctantly. Liz nodded. "And you swear you'll meet me back here in   
  
*exactly* *two* hours?"  
  
"I swear," she replied. "Well… how about I just meet you back for two?" At Francis' look she   
  
continued. "Fine, two hours exactly."  
  
Hoping he wouldn't regret it, he conceded. "Ok, two hours." The smile of gratitude was payment   
  
enough. "Go on, you've got one hour fifty-nine minutes and twenty seconds left."  
  
"Thanks," Liz bolted from her seat and ran for the door.  
  
"Two hours!" he called. Francis sighed and counted off thirty seconds before he exited the diner.   
  
He could see Elizabeth's dark-haired form hurrying towards the Hotel District. He really didn't   
  
want to know what she was doing.  
  
He looked at his watch: One hour fifty-seven minutes and counting.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Jason opened the door before she even had a change to knock. As much as he would hate to   
  
admit it, he had been waiting anxiously for her arrival, checking the peephole every few seconds.  
  
Liz stepped into the room and shut the door with a resounding bang with the back of her shoe.   
  
"I've got two hours," she announced.  
  
Jason nodded and, stepping into her personal space, fused his mouth to hers.   
  
Elizabeth moaned as she felt his warmth envelop her. She pressed her lower body against his   
  
and playfully nipped his bottom lip and was rewarded by a heady groan smothered by her mouth   
  
emerging from Jason's lips.  
  
He pulled away, gazing deep into her face. Her eyes were smoky and dilated, her cheeks flushed,   
  
her lips pink and swollen. He lifted her small hand and pressed it against his chest. She could feel   
  
his heart beat, racing beneath the skin. She smiled softly before taking his hand and leading him   
  
towards the room's large bed.   
  
His back to the bed, he rubbed his hands up and down her pale skin, enjoying its silky softness.   
  
He meant to speak but she paused him, one delicate finger pressed against his lips. "Sshh. Don't   
  
talk." Her gaze directed him to sit on the bed and he followed her silent order as her fingers rose   
  
to the tiny buttons on her impossibly tight sweater.  
  
Holding his gaze, Liz slipped each tiny pearl button through its hole until it hung open allowing   
  
him a tantalizing view of the mounds of her breasts swelling behind lavender lace. Jason's voice   
  
caught in his throat as he watched the baby blue sweater slid down her arms to the floor.   
  
Reaching behind, she slid the zipper down until her knee length paisley skirt pooled at her feat   
  
and she stood before him clad in nothing but her skimpy underwear and her flip-flops.  
  
Desire flared in his eyes as he took in her near-nude form. He'd never seen her with so little   
  
clothing – outside of his dreams, of course. Reality was so much better. Her body wasn't what   
  
was most alluring however, it was the way she carried herself – she was confident, it showed in   
  
the way her blue-eyed gaze held his; the way her hip jutted to the side as she watched him watch   
  
her.   
  
She kicked off her flip-flops, stepped between his outstretched legs and, cupping his face, bent to   
  
take his mouth again. Elizabeth felt his tongue probing along the seam of her mouth requesting   
  
entrance. Her mouth fell open and her tongue swept in to battle with hers. His taste was   
  
intoxicating – he tasted like mint toothpaste and a little like beer, a lot like a *man*. His lips left   
  
hers and instead trailed a path of fire along her jaw line and neck, nipping playfully at the pulse in   
  
her throat.  
  
His tongue trailed down her warm skin, dipping between her cleavage, tasting her vanilla-scented   
  
skin even as his fingers trailed lightly down her back and he dipped his hands into her panties   
  
and cupped her rear.  
  
Her fingers were tangled hopelessly in his short spiky blonde hair and she pressed herself into   
  
him more insistently as she suckled a nipple behind the lace. "Jason," she whispered throatily.   
  
Her senses were on fire. "Don't stop," she whimpered as his tongue left her breast and slid down   
  
the flat plane of her stomach and dipped into the delicate whorl of her navel. He wasn't planning   
  
to stop any time soon. Liz giggled lightly as he licked then blew, the cool air tickling her flash. But   
  
she wasn't giggling anymore when he nipped the skin just above waistband of her panties.   
  
Using what was left of her will power, she pulled herself away, still close enough to feel the   
  
warmth radiation from his body, still more than aware the his callous hands cupped her buttocks –   
  
hands that she reluctantly removed. Before he could even formulate the thought that she wanted   
  
to stop Liz reached between them and tugged his sweater up and over his head.  
  
She feasted her eyes on the expanse of golden flesh she revealed. Mesmerized, she trailed a   
  
finger past the indentation of his collarbone, down between his well-defined pecs over his   
  
washboard abs. He hissed at the sensations of her fingers radiating throughout his body.  
  
Kneeling before him, she could feel his gaze on the top of her head as she quickly removed his   
  
boots and socks and then rising to her feet again, lowered her hand to his belt buckle. The   
  
evidence of his desire for her was quite obvious and he groaned as she accidentally brushed him   
  
with her knuckles. Her blue eyes glinted. She decided she liked that sound.   
  
The metal zipper rasped in the quiet and Jason's breath hitched as he lifted his hips and she   
  
pulled his jeans down his body until he was clad in only his boxer briefs. Her eyes met his. Jason   
  
leaned back until his head hit the pillows and Liz following suit climbed onto the bed and settled   
  
herself above him, looking down on him on her knees.  
  
She could read the impatience muddled with desire swimming in his eyes as Jason reached   
  
behind her and unclasped her bra, her firm small breasts cupped in his palms. Liz threw back her   
  
head and moaned as his thumbs brushed her nipples and she settled her weight over him, driving   
  
him to distraction by rubbing herself over his hardness over and over.  
  
He wanted to wait. He couldn't seem to get enough of her. He wanted to worship her body; to   
  
touch and squeeze and lick and suck and tease ever inch of her body until she screamed, but   
  
Elizabeth would have no such thing.  
  
"Jason," she moaned as his tongue laved her nipple. "I need you," she whispered. Her voice was   
  
like liquid honey as her hips undulated in a sensual circle.  
  
Jason shook his head, a rare devilish grin finding its way to his face. Without warning, he flipped   
  
them, keeping his weight off her and enjoying Elizabeth's little shriek of delight. "I have two hours   
  
to explore every inch of your body… and I intend to use every minute of it wisely," he continued,   
  
his blue eyes smoky with promise.   
  
Elizabeth arched in pleasure as he hooked his thumbs into the tops of her tanga panties and   
  
slipped them past her hips before tossing them away. He was fascinated by the expanse of   
  
creamy skin that met his gaze. Her breasts were small and firm topped with dusky peach nipples.   
  
Her waist was a tiny ribbon with the sexiest navel known to man, before softly flaring out to   
  
smooth hips and sexy legs. She was petite but rounded in all the right places. She was gorgeous.  
  
He lifted his gaze to hers. She was blushing at his blatant appraisal of her body. "You're   
  
beautiful," he whispered before capturing her lips once more.   
  
Her hands trailed down the smooth expanse of his back, his skin marred only by the scars –   
  
badges of his occupation – that the sensitive pads of her fingers encountered. Liz's hands slipped   
  
into his boxer-briefs as his lips trailed down her body, suckling on her collarbone, nipping her   
  
shoulders, trailing suggestively down her stomach, whirling in her navel once more before dipping   
  
lower.  
  
Liz's breath hitched in her throat as she watched him part her thighs and kiss the inside gently.   
  
He paused, enjoying the sudden rapidness of her breathing before he dipped to taste her. His   
  
name fell from her lips and all thoughts became incoherent as he tortured them both with his   
  
tongue.   
  
She tasted like honey fire, like secrets. She was driving him to distraction as her silken skin slid   
  
over his. She was as tense as a violin string, as pleasure crashed over her continuously before   
  
she came apart in his arms.   
  
Jason pulled himself up, cradling her shuddering body in his arms. He kissed her and she could   
  
taste herself on his tongue. It was strangely erotic. He was amazed at the depth of emotions he   
  
was feeling. His heart was flooded as he watched the pleasure flash across her face. She was   
  
saying something, whispering against his skin, slick with their sweat and the effort of maintaining   
  
control.   
  
"Now," she was whispering. "I need you now…." She punctuated her statement by reaching   
  
between their bodies and trying to tug his boxer-briefs down past his hips. She was failing   
  
miserably. His tongue tangled with hers once more as he lifted his hips and pulled them off   
  
himself.   
  
Elizabeth moaned at the feeling of their naked skin sliding against each other. Jason battled for   
  
control as she parted her thighs, blindly searching for him with her hand. He groaned as she   
  
found him and guided him to her. Holding her gaze, Jason laced his fingers with hers as he thrust   
  
deeper until he was buried in her to the hilt. Liz's eyelashes fluttered. She felt so full, so needed.   
  
Jason thrust deep and Elizabeth whimpered in pleasure, the sound washing over him, added to   
  
his feelings of having died on gone to heaven she felt so good – warm and wet and tight. He   
  
moved again, and she moved within, their bodies settled into a steady rhythm in the dance that   
  
was as old as time and love itself. She wasn't a passive lover. Her hands roamed everywhere   
  
and her legs wrapped tighter around his hips as his body pistoned in and out of hers. His name   
  
fell from her lips and her eyes skewed at the light that was building behind them. Her blunt nails   
  
dug into his back and her lips sought his as she came apart in his arms, feeling as though she   
  
had touched the sun.  
  
He could feel her fall apart in his arms, and he wasn't very far behind. But he kept his eyes open   
  
as he reached fulfillment, biting his bottom lip as he rode out the wave of pleasure before he lost   
  
control and groaned her name as he palmed her body to his. His weight collapsed on her and he   
  
lay shuddering in her embrace, her arms and legs locked around him, enjoying his solid weight on   
  
her as final pinwheels of light and fire exploded in her body.  
  
Finally, he lifted his weight from her and rolled onto his back, bringing her naked body to rest on   
  
his chest. Her short pixie haircut was plastered to her head and her eyes were wide and dilated.   
  
She kissed him like a woman wholly and completely satisfied. Which, of course, she was.   
  
He stroked her hair as their breathing slowed and waited for the guilt to set in. But there was   
  
none. Only peace and the stab of desire she kissed his shoulder and trailed a finger around his   
  
nipple. She looked at her watch. "I've still got an hour…" she whispered, coming to terms with the   
  
emotions flitting across his face. She had been expecting the guilt as well, but it did not come. Perhaps   
  
it would come later. But for now, she could think of better ways to occupy their time before they   
  
slipped back into the real world.  
  
Jason grinned in that way only he could. "I guess I better get back to work."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
She was late.   
  
She didn't give a damn. But the second she saw Francis's worried face as he paced back and   
  
forth in front of the Pizzeria, she felt a little guilty. But she couldn't keep that satisfied smile off her   
  
face. Her body was still tingling with the memories of riding Jason hard and fast until she   
  
screamed his name while he would not look away with that disarming gaze of his. Afterwards, he   
  
had lifted her in his arms and carried her to the shower. She had barely dragged herself away,   
  
drunk off the sight of him naked, and proceeded to dress. He was a much more playful lover than   
  
she'd expected. He had tried to help her dress, but of course he was much more efficient in the   
  
undressing department as he kept undoing her buttons to kiss her shoulders. It had finally ended   
  
with him lifting her skirt above her waist and sliding into her after placing her back to a wall; which   
  
was the reason why she was late.  
  
Her bodyguard caught sight of her, his relief evident on his face. "You're late," he scolded,   
  
tapping his watch. "I was worried."  
  
"I'm sorry," she replied, unable to keep the smile of her face.  
  
"I hope you're happy," he shot back.   
  
"I am," she replied as the two headed back to her apartment.  
  
Francis rolled his eyes. She did. In fact, she looked like the cat that ate the canary. That Toreno   
  
fellow was a lucky guy.  
  
If he only knew.  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: A nice long chapter for you Liason fans. I hoped you enjoyed… hopefully it wasn't too   
  
graphic. If it was, I apologise. Well folk, R&R… tell me what you think.  
  
P.S: I promise it wasn't a dream, lol, for those who remembered Chapter 14 in Part 1 


	17. Chapter 17

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 17  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: In case you haven't been able to tell, along with very little time to write, I am battling a   
  
severe case of writer's block – the result of the crap they disguise as GH on television now. The   
  
only thing keeping me writing is your reviews, so don't be stingy – R&R people; it's what keeps us   
  
writing.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The guilt eventually did set in, the moment she swung open her apartment door and met Daniel's   
  
smiling face.  
  
"Hey you," he greeted, stepping over the threshold and bringing her close to him to kiss her lips.  
  
Liz angled her head, so his lips brushed her cheek instead and she stepped out his embrace,   
  
heading further into the apartment.   
  
Daniel frowned mildly and shut the door behind him. "What's wrong?" he asked.  
  
Elizabeth sighed and turned back to him. "We need to talk."  
  
"Uh oh. Those words never precede anything good," he said lightly.  
  
"Seriously, Daniel."  
  
Confusion furrowed his brow. "Ok. What about?"  
  
"Us," she replied softly. "This *thing* we have going on between us… whatever it is."  
  
"What about us or *it*?" he asked, coming to stand directly in front of her.  
  
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her middle. She didn't want to hurt him but, after what she   
  
had shared with Jason this afternoon, she knew she couldn't go on pretending that what was   
  
going on between them was anything beyond great sex.   
  
"Just what is it that we have together?" Liz asked, locking his gaze with hers.  
  
"Ok…" Daniel drawled. "I'm confused."  
  
"I'm not."  
  
Daniel frowned. "Well, enlighten me, please?"  
  
"Nothing," she replied simply.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Well, not exactly *nothing*," she replied, getting a little flustered. "It has been ten days of   
  
amazing sex and a darn good business relationship," she babbled, "but frankly, there's nothing   
  
more. And… I don't want 'nothing', Daniel."  
  
"So what are you saying, Elizabeth?" he asked. He kept his eyes on her, awaiting her reaction.   
  
He somehow knew his ego was in for a bruising.   
  
"I think you know what I'm saying, Daniel," she answered softly.  
  
Daniel remained silent before nodding slowly. "Yeah, I do," he replied, clenching his jaw. "I hope   
  
Morgan makes you happy."  
  
"Daniel –"  
  
"It's ok, Elizabeth." He turned around and headed for the door, where he exited closing the door   
  
behind him quietly.  
  
She felt like a cad.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Port Charles, 11:00 p.m.  
  
The moment he stepped through the loft and locked eyes with Courtney sitting in the relative   
  
darkness on the couch, he knew she knew something had gone on.  
  
"I was kinda hoping I was wrong," she said, her voice cracking in mid-sentence. "But, I look into   
  
your eyes now and I know that I wasn't."  
  
"Courtney –" Jason began, for some reason trying to explain.  
  
"No! There is *nothing* that you can say that can convince me otherwise, Jason!" Her sky blue   
  
eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I can see it in your eyes."   
  
Jason looked away.  
  
"Tell me, where you with her today?"  
  
"Court –"  
  
"'Cause you were with her last night." Jason's eyes widened in surprise. "I could smell her on   
  
you." Jason sobered, his eyes riveted to hers, the guilt snowballing as he watched her struggle to   
  
keep herself together. "Who the hell was I kidding thinking I could ever truly come between you   
  
and Elizabeth? No matter how much you tried to convince yourself, she was always first in your   
  
book."  
  
Jason shook his head, "No Courtney. That's not true."  
  
"Shut up! Just shut up! I don't want any more of your lies, Jason," she sobbed. They were quiet   
  
for a moment, the only sounds Courtney's crying. "Did you ever truly love me?" she asked, the   
  
tears turning her cheeks ruddy.   
  
Jason nodded slowly, the part of him that *did* love her wanting to reach out and crush her in his   
  
arms. But the seed of doubt had been planted long ago when he had started whispering   
  
Elizabeth's name in his sleep, and now, it had borne fruit.  
  
Courtney keened, the fact that her love had not been enough making her heart break even   
  
harder. "Get out," she whispered fiercely.  
  
"Courtney –" he broke in for the third time.  
  
"Get out! Get out!" she screamed. She yanked off her engagement ring and threw it with all her   
  
might at him.  
  
Jason saw the ring coming from a mile away and he could've stepped aside to avoid it but he   
  
didn't. The rough filigree of the ring hit his cheek and sliced a cut on the smooth angular plane,   
  
before falling and bouncing on the floor at his feet. He didn't flinch at the sharp pain; he just stood   
  
there, staring at her break down.  
  
"Didn't hear me, Morgan?" she shrieked, her blue eyes accusing. "Get away from me! Just leave   
  
me the hell alone!"  
  
He heeded her words and simply turned his back on her and left the loft. The instant the door   
  
closed behind him Courtney slipped from her seating place folding, her aching body into the fetal   
  
position, her sobs renting the air.  
  
Why does love have to hurt so damn bad?   
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: Short but I know you Liason fans probably enjoyed – at least I hope so. Isn't it ironic that my   
  
breakup scene happened on the same day Jason took off his wedding ring on the show   
  
(2003/12/17)? Hey, I wonder, is it possible to petition for a particular scenario in Fan February? If   
  
it is, I think we should petition for Liason all the way! Just a thought. R&R people. 


	18. Chapter 18

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos II: Chapter 18  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: Awww… my reviewers love me… and I love you guys, too. The response for last chapter   
  
was great (as expected) and I want you guys to keep it up. Lots more Liason for the future.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Most people thought that Jason Morgan was cold and unfeeling, but those that *knew* him, knew   
  
the truth. He *could* feel – whether it was love, sorrow, pain or guilt. Elizabeth took one look in   
  
his glacial blue eyes and the raw graze on his cheek when she swung open her door at two in the   
  
morning to know that something was not quite right.  
  
The moment he stepped over the threshold, he seemed to dwarf the room; the walls seemed to   
  
contract around them. Jason shrugged his jacket off and not pausing, pulled her close to him and   
  
covered her lips with his. Elizabeth moaned softly and savoured his taste as she melted into his   
  
warmth. Finally, Jason pulled away looking deep into her eyes.  
  
"What happened?" she asked softly, her fingertips reverently tracing his strong jaw.  
  
"Courtney and I broke it off," he confessed.  
  
Elizabeth was taken aback; she didn't know quite how to take his statement. She was overjoyed,   
  
of course, because they would not have to hide their relationship, but his eyes told her that there   
  
was oh so much more; that that wasn't quite all to the story.  
  
"I broke her heart," he continued guiltily. "You should have seen the look on her face when I   
  
walked through the door. She knew… she *knew* that I had been with you. But it wasn't surprise,   
  
Elizabeth. It was more acceptance than anything."  
  
Elizabeth looked away. "What do you want me to say, Jason?" she asked softly, before again   
  
staring at the man she had loved for so long. "That I'm sorry that you broke up with her? As her   
  
niece, I am, because I loved her too, and I'm sorry that you broke her heart. But as a woman, as   
  
her *rival*, I'm not. Because it means that we have a second chance to be together and for that I   
  
can *never* be sorry," she told him.  
  
"Then, I guess I'm not sorry either," he finally replied, tracing the soft smile that appeared on her   
  
face with his fingertip. He bent his head and captured her lips in a kiss, his broad hands slipping   
  
under her tank top to caress the smooth skin of her back. He was amazed at how soft and how   
  
warm she was. Jason pulled away and cupped her face in his palms. In the more than two years   
  
that they had been apart, she had grown even more beautiful if possible.   
  
"I never said it so long ago. Maybe if I had, we never would have broken up," he mused softly.   
  
Elizabeth cocked her head in confusion. "What are you talking about?" she asked, lifting her own   
  
hands to his wrists holding his palms in place.   
  
"I love you," he admitted softly. "I never actually told you I loved you," he continued. His hands   
  
dropped from her face and his blue eyes bored into hers. "If I had told you I loved you the night   
  
you left me, would you have stayed?" he asked.  
  
Liz blinked in mild confusion. "I don't know."  
  
"It's a simple answer – yes or no," he said teasingly.  
  
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Maybe to a man it is, but definitely not for me."  
  
"Why not? I thought that that was what you wanted to hear from me. For me to *tell* you I loved   
  
you, even if I couldn't *show* you."  
  
"Honestly… I would've left." Jason's eyes widened in surprise and she couldn't help but giggle. "I   
  
would've made you beg – grovel even. I would've had fun making you my love slave. *Then*, I   
  
would've taken you back." She continued playfully, before her voice sobered. "But at that   
  
moment, I was tired and grieving for my father and so damned hurt and angry that you'd lied to   
  
me about his death." Elizabeth took in a shaky breath. "Even as I stood there in my anger, I was   
  
praying that you would say *something* to make it all go away – but you didn't. You just let me   
  
walk away, Jason. You just let me walk away. And, maybe that hurt more than the lies – the fact   
  
that you hadn't fought for what was between us, for what has *always* been between us."  
  
"I wanted to fight back. I did. But you wouldn't let me back in," he replied in defense.  
  
Liz shook her head. "You didn't try hard enough, Jason. Did you honestly think that I would be so   
  
overjoyed at my father's rise from the grave that I would conveniently forget that it was you that   
  
found his body and told Carly and I that he was dead? Or that when I found out the truth that 'I'm   
  
sorry' would make up for the fact the person that I thought I could always count on to be honest   
  
with me betrayed my trust? It doesn't work like that."  
  
"What could I have done differently?" he asked softly, not wanting either of them to relive the   
  
hurtful past as their conversation ventured further into serious and dangerous territory.   
  
Elizabeth crossed her arms across her chest, not sure how the conversation would end. "You   
  
could've waited… showed a little restraint where Courtney was concerned… I could've listened….   
  
I don't know. It doesn't matter now anyway, Jason – it's the past and we're *together*," she   
  
crossed the distance between them and stared into his eyes, "and I don't intend to let anyone or   
  
anything break us apart again."  
  
"So what about what you told me?" Jason stroked the nape of her neck. "The night of the   
  
housewarming – were you really going to let me go?"  
  
Elizabeth smiled softly and nodded truthfully. "Yes. I wasn't lying – I only wanted you to be happy,   
  
Jason, if it was to be with Courtney, so be it. It's great theoretically, but I didn't think I could   
  
handle it in person. That's why I left the next day." Liz wrapped her arms around herself and   
  
came to stand by the picture window, staring out at the city that never slept, its lights shining   
  
brilliantly against the night sky. "I kinda fell apart after I came back here," she admitted quietly,   
  
Jason the first person she had spoken to about her depression. "I couldn't eat; I couldn't sleep…   
  
every time I closed my eyes, I would see that man, I would hear his voice, 'You wanna fight little   
  
girl?'," her tortured cobalt gaze met Jason's before moving back to the backlit skyline. "Anyways,"   
  
she continued matter-of-factly, "I was a mess, but one day about a week later, I woke up on the   
  
floor and *something* was different. *I* was different. I realized this wasn't me – this pathetic   
  
famine-victim look-alike wallowing in her self-pity. So I pulled myself outta this hole my demons   
  
had carved for me by *myself* - no Lucky, no you, just *me*. For the first time, it was all about   
  
me; I was alone, but it didn't matter, because I had me, myself and I plus my art. I started to pull   
  
myself together, I started to paint, ," she paused, "I started to move on."  
  
By then, Jason had come to stand beside her, listening as he'd done so many times before, as   
  
she poured her heart out to him. Realizing that, indeed she hadn't needed any help to pull herself   
  
together. A lesser man would be a little miffed but for Jason, it increased his admiration of her   
  
even more.   
  
"I don't know what I was thinking with Daniel." From the corner of her eye, she could see Jason's   
  
jaw clench. "It was great while it lasted," the muscle in his jaw started to tick, "he made me feel   
  
like a woman – young and beautiful, appreciated and sexy; something I hadn't felt from a man in   
  
a long time. I reveled in it… then you come to my Gallery opening and it all gets shot to hell the   
  
moment I set eyes on you." she turned to him, blue eyes smiling with warmth.   
  
"I was jealous," he admitted, his fingertips stroking her cheek.   
  
Elizabeth's mouth dropped open in mock surprise. "Were you?"  
  
One of his rare smiles flitted to his face. "Why do you think I was in that backroom all by myself?"  
  
"You hate crowds," she pointed out.  
  
"Besides that. I didn't think I could trust myself to remain passive while Toreno acted as if he   
  
owned you and you were wearing that 'Fuck me!' dress."  
  
"'Fuck me!' dress?" asked Elizabeth incredulously, a giggle escaping her mouth.   
  
"Yes, the 'Fuck me!' dress. You nearly gave me a heart attack when I walked into the room. What   
  
were you thinking?"  
  
"Honestly?" Jason nodded. "I wanted to get your attention."  
  
"You did." His fingertips traced her rosebud mouth. "You looked very beautiful by the way."  
  
Elizabeth smiled. Jason was not a poetic man; it was good to hear little compliments like that.   
  
"Why'd you kiss me?" he asked suddenly.   
  
Liz's brow furrowed in confusion. "Huh?"  
  
"Why'd you kiss me?" he repeated. "In the backroom?"  
  
Liz shrugged. "I don't know. It felt right. It was long past overdue don't you think?" she asked,   
  
stepping closer to him and slipping her fingers under the hem of his cotton T-shirt.  
  
Jason gasped as her cool fingers slid across the muscles of his abdomen.  
  
"Besides," she continued, pressing a kiss to his neck, "I didn't hear you complaining, Mr. Morgan."  
  
"No –"  
  
"Sshh…" Liz cut him off with a kiss. "Talk later."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
About four hours later, Elizabeth lay fast asleep in Jason's arms, her head tucked under his chin,   
  
her lashes dark crescents above the tops of her cheeks. As the sun's first rays peeked above the   
  
New York skyline, Jason watched her sleep, still amazed at how much had happened in the past   
  
two days. Not only were they talking but also after two years of little or no communication,   
  
somehow they had found their way back to each other. After all this time, he was still hers mind,   
  
body and soul.   
  
Elizabeth stirred in his arms, subconsciously pressing herself against the warmth at her front.   
  
When that source of warmth gasped in husky pleasure and tightened his arms around her, Liz's   
  
eyes fluttered open and she smiled softly.   
  
"Hi," he greeted softly, caressing the nape of her neck, still getting used to the idea that, for a   
  
while at least, his hand would not be buried in a mass of silky chocolate curls.   
  
"Mornin'," she replied sleepily. "How'd you sleep?"  
  
"Good," he lied. Truthfully, he hadn't slept much – not because he wasn't tired, but because he   
  
had chosen to stare in awe at the moon-bathed creature lying naked in his arms.   
  
Under the sheets, Liz hooked a silky thigh around his hip and maneuvered him onto his back.   
  
"Are you hungry?" she asked softly, hovering above his body.  
  
Jason's eyes practically rolled back into his skull as she sank down over him. Reaching up to   
  
palm her breasts he replied huskily, "I think the classic reply would be, 'not for food.'"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Two hours later  
  
Elizabeth's door swung open and Francis continued to read the sports section of the Daily, not   
  
even bothering to look up from his post.  
  
Jason, clad only in his black boxer-briefs, coffee mug in hand knelt to pick the paper from the mat   
  
outside the door. "Mornin' Francis," he called to the bodyguard, holding up the paper in salute   
  
before closing the door.  
  
"Mornin', Jason," the guard automatically replied. As the door closed, his eyes popped out in shock  
  
**Jason?**  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: Well, we're still in the 12 days of Christmas, so technically although I missed the 25th by 2   
  
days, this can still be considered a Christmas gift so: MERRY CHRISTMAS, HAPPY   
  
HANUKKAH, HAPPY KWANZAA, HAPPY WINTER SOLSTICE, or whatever you celebrate. I   
  
hoped you enjoyed, so drop me a line or two.   
  
Cara 


	19. Chapter 19

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 19  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter, especially Francis's reaction. Now it's time for the   
  
fallout...  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
With flushed cheeks and averted eyes, Elizabeth blatantly avoided Francis's eyes as she stepped   
  
out of her apartment alone an hour after Jason had left for Port Charles. Her obvious ignorance   
  
afforded the missed opportunity of her long time guard's knowing look as he put two and two   
  
together as to whom she'd been in such a hurry to meet the day before. Inwardly Francis smiled,   
  
he could've sworn he'd seen a little skip in Jason's step as the Corinthos Enforcer made his way   
  
downstairs to his car.  
  
Francis watched his charge's demeanor - she seemed happy, more relaxed and, after all the   
  
pain she'd endured over the past few months, Lord knows she deserved a little happiness.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Elizabeth didn't know quite what to expect when she stepped back into the real world. With   
  
Francis, she'd been a little embarrassed, because she knew that her guard would eventually be   
  
able to ascertain where she'd been the day before and *whom* she'd been with.   
  
As well as her guard could keep confidence, she knew it would only be a matter of time before   
  
the other guards learnt of Jason's breakup with Courtney and, as mouths tend to do in the   
  
comfortable presence of others, they would start to flap. and eventually reach her parent's ears.   
  
*That* was a situation that she didn't want to think about.  
  
Now, she was going to see Daniel. A situation in which she needed to maintain a calm and   
  
rational outlook. But she couldn't seem to hold on to that rationality - she could only hold the   
  
image of the pain swirling in his dark eyes as his mind processed what she tried to tell him. She   
  
didn't think that she was ready to face, but she needed to. She had plans to make - plans that   
  
needed to be put into motion as soon as possible.   
  
During the car ride to his offices downtown, Liz went over in her head all the things she wanted to   
  
say to him. But the moment his secretary allowed her inside and she took one look into his great   
  
dark eyes, she found herself instantly tongue-tied.   
  
Daniel watched her entire his office, hesitating on the threshold as if she was entering the lair of   
  
some dangerous animal. He tried to feel some anger for her as a person even as he tried to   
  
maintain his detached professionalism towards her as an artist. But it all failed. It all failed as he   
  
took in her silky sky-blue tank top that caused her almond-shaped cobalt orbs to pop out and the   
  
slinky chiffon skirt that flirted with the tops of her knees. She was so small and delicate -   
  
everything her art was not - and he cursed himself for finding her so beautiful after she'd   
  
practically dropped him like a hot potato.  
  
Elizabeth quietly closed the door behind her, her hand still grasping the brass knob as she   
  
surveyed Daniel lounging in his comfortable black chair behind his art-nouveau steel and glass   
  
desk, a silver pen twirling from his slender fingers. Liz took a deep breath and started towards   
  
him, her flip-flops barely making noise as she crossed the black and white tiled floor.   
  
She looked fragile and gazed at him in trepidation. He couldn't stand to see her nervous so, he   
  
took pity on her. "Are you expecting me to turn into some kind of monster?" he asked softly,   
  
raising the pen to his lips.  
  
Liz stopped short. "Would you?" she answered in reply.  
  
For long moments Daniel said nothing. Finally he said, "No. I'm a professional."  
  
Elizabeth grit her teeth but held her tongue and nodded. "Of course."  
  
A ray of sunlight raced through the wall of glass to his back, striking the floor to her left, causing a   
  
backdrop of light against her side, highlighting the fine strands of auburn in her hair and turning   
  
her pale skin golden. He tried not to think about how smooth her skin felt beneath his fingertips,   
  
how she tasted sweet like vanilla, how it was as soft as a dew laden rose petal. He focused on   
  
the matter at hand.  
  
"Are you gonna stand all day?" he asked, indicating the seat before him. Elizabeth shook her   
  
head. She'd been in his office countless times before in the past few weeks and he'd never   
  
offered her that seat. She'd instead been escorted to the comfortable couches that lay   
  
haphazardly in one corner of his office with his blood red walls filled with the amazing works of   
  
the artists he represented. Trying to make herself feel more comfortable, she crossed to the   
  
couches and sat down.  
  
"Is this the way it's gonna be?" she asked.  
  
He could hear the apology in her voice and maybe that hurt worst of all. He through down the pen   
  
but tried to maintain his dignity and not allow his ego to make him do or say something stupid or   
  
insulting - he didn't have any wish to hurt her and besides, Elizabeth could give as well as she   
  
got. "What way would that be, Elizabeth?"   
  
"This... coldness," she said in description for lack of a better word.   
  
"I think I'm entitled to a little coldness, don't you think?" he shot back.   
  
Liz swallowed the quickfire retort that rose to her lips. She knew he was right. "I'm sorry," she   
  
apologised.  
  
"You've said that already, but I don't need your apologies."  
  
"What then?"  
  
"Tell me why you're here then leave me in peace."  
  
That statement caught her off guard. "I'm thinking of moving back home, to Port Charles," she   
  
admitted.  
  
Daniel processed the statement with dread. "Of course," he replied, standing to stare out at   
  
downtown New York City bustling below him.  
  
"Is that going to be a problem?"  
  
Seriously, he contemplated the question. As a man, he knew one deciding factor of her desire to   
  
return home was Jason Morgan and the realization made him jealous. On the other hand, the   
  
return home might be an amazing inspiration and, as her promoter, he was supposed to be   
  
interested in her art above all else. He couldn't say no because of geography - Port Charles was   
  
in the same state, about three hundred miles and four hours away by car and an hour away by   
  
plane. The only thing that would make sense for him agreeing there was a problem was his   
  
jealousy and, in order to see she was more than just The Next Best Thing but The Best Thing, he   
  
needed to be fair. "No, it won't be a problem."  
  
"Good." Liz just wanted to get of there fast. She didn't think she could stand this much longer.   
  
"I broke all the rules with you," he suddenly spoke up.   
  
Liz was taken aback. She really didn't need a reminder of all the rules they'd both broken in the   
  
almost two weeks they'd been sleeping with each other.   
  
"I was infatuated with you. From the first time I laid eyes on you at the Gallery. You fascinated me   
  
and you fascinated me even more as I got to know you. I don't know why, but I let you get under   
  
my skin - I never do that. It's not my business to really care about you as a person; all I'm   
  
supposed to care about is your art. But it's never been like that with you -"  
  
"Stop," she whispered.   
  
He did.   
  
There was so much that she wanted to say, so much that probably was in her eyes, but somehow   
  
she couldn't find the courage to speak them.   
  
"When do you leave for Port Charles?"  
  
"Tonight."  
  
Daniel nodded and turned away from her. "I expect weekly updates from you. Mr. Johansen   
  
wants two new ones to start of his collection." Those words were her cold dismissal.   
  
She couldn't even feel the jubilation of learning that not one but two of her works were being sold   
  
to a most generous client. All she was filled with was a feeling of despair and the distinct feeling   
  
that she had just lost a friend.  
  
**She didn't even say goodbye** he thought as he heard the click of the door closing shut behind   
  
her. Daniel took a deep soul cleansing breath and turned back to his desk. He could still smell the   
  
crisp fresh scent of her perfume in the air; hear the remnants of her voice. He knew he would still   
  
have to see her, but she had wormed her way into his heart in such a short space of time that he   
  
knew his heart, which had seen so little love or affection in his short lifetime, would break at the   
  
mere thought of seeing her but not being able to *see* her.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Jason Morgan was nervous.   
  
That just didn't happen.  
  
The unflappable bodyguard couldn't shake the feeling that all the guards knew what he'd been up   
  
to yesterday - shaking up with his partner's daughter. *after* dumping said partner's little sister   
  
of course.  
  
He pushed open the door to Sonny's office expecting an immediate explosion of Latin temper, but   
  
instead found Alexis, clad in a black pinstriped suit, perched on the end of the desk with a sheaf   
  
of papers in hand and the glasses perched on the tip of her nose.  
  
She looked up at the sound of the intrusion and Jason actually held his breath, wondering   
  
childishly if Alexis had some kind of radar (mother's intuition or something of the like) where her   
  
daughter was concerned. But all she did was smile.  
  
"Sonny was looking for you," she informed him.  
  
"Really?" he asked, stepping into the office and closing the door behind him.  
  
"Yeah. Where were you? He was trying to get you all day yesterday. If he wasn't so used to your   
  
disappearing acts he would've been a little worried."  
  
"I was chasing a lead," he said.  
  
Alexis looked of him with interest. "About the murders?"  
  
"Yes," he lied. **More like chasing the imaginary line from your daughter's stomach to her -**  
  
"Find anything?" Alexis asked, interrupting his thoughts.  
  
"No."  
  
Alexis sighed. "I wish we knew who was doing this. These were innocent men. well as innocent   
  
as men could be, working for Sonny. They didn't deserve to die like that." She sighed and took off   
  
her glasses, rubbing the fatigue from his eyes. "You know, he tries to act like it doesn't bother him   
  
where it really counts. But I *know* it does."  
  
Jason knew it too. "Where is he now?" he inquired of his bestfriend's fianc‚e.  
  
"On the docks... walking... staring."  
  
Jason nodded and turned to find his friend.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Sonny heard someone approaching, but since Johnny hadn't made any moves, he knew the   
  
approaching person wasn't hostile and he turned to see Jason heading towards him. "Hey," he   
  
called with a smile as the blue-eyed dirty-blonde made his way over to him.   
  
"Hey," Jason replied.  
  
"Where've been?"  
  
"Searchin'."  
  
"Find anything?"  
  
"No."  
  
Sonny nodded in frustration. "Alexis is breathing down the PCPD's neck but Taggert's being   
  
uncharacteristically silent."  
  
"He doesn't have any clues either," supplied his friend.   
  
"Probably not," frowned Sonny, "and that ain't good. I can't afford another war, Jason. I want this   
  
thing nipped in the bud. I don't wanna get some call in the middle of the night or interrupting my   
  
dinner telling me another one of my employees - one with no stake in the 'business' - has been   
  
murdered."  
  
Jason could hear the conviction in his friend's voice. "I'm on it, Sonny."  
  
Sonny sighed and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "I know you are."  
  
The look in his dark brown eyes brought Jason to the realization that, if he found whoever was   
  
responsible for these killings, he wouldn't only be bringing justice to those who had been taken   
  
and their families, but he would save his friend from the demons that lurked in his soul and   
  
threatened to destroy it all.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Night fell on Port Charles quickly and Jason was in a bit of a dilemma - he had no place to stay.   
  
Going back to the Loft was out of the question obviously, but heading back to Harborview and his   
  
old penthouse apartment was also out of the question, unless he wanted to answer countless   
  
questions as to why he needed to stay there in the first place, of course. The only solution was to   
  
spend the night at Jakes or even in a swanky room at the Port Charles Hotel.  
  
Just as he set foot in the direction of the docks to kill two (well, three) birds with one stone, he felt   
  
the vibration of his ringing cellphone from his pocket. "Morgan," he replied in the cold detached   
  
voice he reserved for when he was working.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Elizabeth's soft voice washed over his senses and he couldn't help but feel a smile tugging at the   
  
corners of his mouth. "Hey yourself. Where are you?" he asked softly.  
  
"Actually, I'm behind you," replied Elizabeth with a giggle.  
  
Jason whirled around to see Liz poking her head around the corner, her grin lighting up her eyes.   
  
He snapped the phone closed as she did the same and made her way towards him.   
  
It had been little under twelve hours since he'd last seen her, laying naked between the sheets of   
  
her bed as her greedy eyes watched him get dressed, but he was starved for the scent and feel   
  
and taste of her. He could see the trusty form of Francis waiting politely to the side fifteen feet   
  
away, but he didn't care. He took her hand and pulled her to him, and covered her mouth with   
  
him, still awed by the barrage of emotions that overtook him as he tasted the warm wet recesses   
  
of her mouth.  
  
"Hmmm," Elizabeth sighed in contentment as she pulled away and stroked the back of his neck.  
  
"This is unexpected."  
  
"Unwanted?" she asked playfully, pressing her lower body against his.  
  
Jason actually chuckled. "No, definitely not. though, we have a bit of a problem."  
  
Liz frowned. "What?"  
  
"Lack of privacy, away from prying eyes?"  
  
He knew Francis heard that last part and the guard had the grace to blush, after all, he did feel a   
  
bit of a voyeur, but there was not much he could do.  
  
Liz rolled her eyes. "Well, I guess we can count our lucky stars that you can be my personal   
  
bodyguard tonight and be thankful that I have a key to my studio.."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Jason was transported into another time as he slid the heavy steel door to her studio shut. They   
  
had ditched Francis on the way - Elizabeth stating that, since she was with Jason, she didn't   
  
need Francis to follow them and the guard had been more than willing to give them the privacy   
  
Jason had not so subtly requested on Elm Street pier - and now he was alone with the woman he   
  
loved in the room that held so many memories for them both.  
  
He could see himself waking up to her relieved cobalt-blue eyes; her force-feeding him soup; her   
  
explaining The Wind to him; decorating her scraggly little Christmas tree; him kissing her   
  
senseless after returning to Port Charles and learning that Lucky had betrayed her. He glanced at   
  
the cot in the corner and he couldn't help but think of the incredibly erotic dream he'd had about   
  
making love to her by the fireplace.  
  
Everything was as she'd left it before she'd left Port Charles for New York City. There was still the   
  
distinct scent of paint and turpentine in the air the air, pots and cans of paint were stacked   
  
haphazardly about. Paintbrushes were crowded into mugs and her canvases, some blank, some   
  
half finished were propped up on the walls. She didn't apologise for the mess - why should she?   
  
After all, Jason had lived with her amongst the clutter whilst she'd nursed him back to health.   
  
She glanced at the bed and remembered the dream she'd had about Jason. Never in her wildest   
  
dreams would she have imagined he'd had the same dream. Even harder to believe that it would   
  
never have to be just a dream anymore.   
  
Elizabeth turned to him a soft smile on her face as she looked at him. She set down her bag and   
  
picked up the auto-lighter on the table and began circulating the cluttered room, lighting the   
  
candles that lined the floor and were perched on the tables until they were surrounded by soft   
  
candlelight. Jason took that as his cue to switch off the harsh fluorescent lighting overhead.  
  
He headed towards her and Liz allowed him to kiss her, his tongue darting out to tangle with his.   
  
He pulled away and he could feel his desire for her catapulting to the surface - a feeling echoed   
  
by her.   
  
Liz slipped her hands under the soft cotton of his shirt and caressed the silky flesh that covered   
  
the taut muscles of his abdomen that jumped under touch. She grasped the hem and lifted it up   
  
and over his head until his golden chest was bared to her, her index finger trailing down his   
  
stomach as she kissed then licked his nipples, smiling at his groan. Much like the first time, she   
  
urged him to sit on the cot and she lifted a foot in hand and began unlacing and unfastening his   
  
boots, slipping his feet from each of them till they were bare.   
  
She extended her hand to he took it although he rose to his feet on his own volition. She   
  
unfastened his belt as he fastened his lips to her neck, nipping and sucking knowing, yet not   
  
caring, that he would probably leave a mark.   
  
Elizabeth moaned and fumbled with his belt clasp even as he licked her clavicle and then tugged   
  
her earlobe between his teeth. She had wanted it to be slow, had wanted to savor each second   
  
and have him quivering at her mercy, but the conflagration was roaring in her ears and suddenly,   
  
she knew nothing of the word or concept of control, only the need to satiate her desire.   
  
Jason knew her control was gone and he could feel his slipping further and further away and it   
  
finally snapped as Elizabeth succeeded in undoing his belt and pulling down his zipper, reaching   
  
into his underwear and holding him hot and stiff and ready in her hand.   
  
He practically whimpered as she continued to cup him in her palm and he fused his mouth to hers   
  
again even as he jerked his lower body away from her. He dragged her shirt over her head,   
  
baring her chest to his feasting eyes even as she shoved his jeans past his hips to pool at his feet   
  
and reached to pull down his underwear. He moaned in her ear and he slipped her filmy skirt off   
  
and before she could blink, pushed her to the cot and in one fluid moment, ripped her bikinis from   
  
her body.  
  
The sound of the silky fabric ripping gave them no pause and Elizabeth opened herself and he fell   
  
on her and imbedded himself in her. She whimpered his name as her body enveloped his. It was   
  
hard and rough and over much too soon but she was utterly and completely fulfilled as the final   
  
aftershocks of her orgasm rocked through her. Mouth dry as the Gobi desert, Jason rolled off her   
  
to his side and tucked her body to his chest, stroking her sweat slicked body, watching as the   
  
dancing flames of the numerous candles cast whimsical shadows over her flesh.  
  
Feeling the post-coital sleep beckoning her, Liz gave into temptation and closed her eyes,   
  
hooking a leg around his thigh, practically fusing herself to Jason as she filled her senses with his   
  
scent and her scent that clung to his sweaty skin. "I love you." she murmured as she   
  
surrendered.  
  
"I love you, too." He kissed the top of her head and clasped her body to him.  
  
Tomorrow they would have to face the real world.  
  
For now, they could be content.  
  
TBC.  
  
A/N: Perhaps a little fluffy at the end. Longer than usual - it's my New Year's present and a   
  
peace offering since I haven't updated in nearly three weeks. I hope you enjoyed, please R&R,   
  
you know I practically live for those things.  
  
Cara 


	20. Chapter 20

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 20  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: I'm sorry about the delay between this chapter and the last. Needless to say that well life   
  
and school interrupted, but I'm here now. Thank you for your wonderful comments, keep 'em   
  
coming.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Jason Morgan slowly surfaced from the final vestiges of sleep aware that someone nearby was   
  
humming.  
  
Off key.  
  
Inwardly he smiled; that could only mean one thing.  
  
He slowly opened his eyes and was not disappointed.  
  
Less than three feet away from the side of the bed, Elizabeth was perched on a stool before a   
  
large canvas painting. Jason's eyes widened in astonishment as he realized she was painting   
  
naked.  
  
Elizabeth turned her attention back to her unknowing model and started when she realized her   
  
subject was wide-awake and staring at her. She grinned devilishly, "What can I say?" she asked,   
  
sweeping her brush across the canvas as she boldly stared at him. "You inspire me, Morgan."  
  
Intrigued as always whenever he was nearby as she painted he asked, "What are you painting?"  
  
Elizabeth paused, dipping her brush into her palette before meeting his gaze. "You," she   
  
answered seriously.   
  
If he was surprised by her answer he didn't show it.  
  
"Keep still, ok?" she requested, her eyes flitting back and forth between Jason and the canvas.  
  
He nodded in reply and obediently complied with her will.  
  
For another hour Elizabeth diligently laboured on the painting. She'd been at it since four thirty   
  
that morning. It was only seven thirty when Jason had woken up, so she hadn't been at it long. An   
  
hour later, she was only four hours into the painting, not long at all by an artist's standard, but   
  
she'd worked fast.  
  
Jason watched her as she worked, surprised that he didn't feel restless as time continued. Indeed   
  
he could feel dreamland's tentacles wrapping themselves around him and his exhausted body   
  
was beckoned back to sleep, lulled by her off-key humming.  
  
Elizabeth set the brush in turpentine to clean and continued to stare. Her painting was finished in   
  
a record four and half hours and he looked so beautiful and peaceful lying there, she didn't have   
  
the heart to wake him.  
  
For lack of better words, Jason Morgan was beautiful in repose. His face lost all it's harsh   
  
angularity, but seemed lovingly molded by a sculptor. Her eyes skimmed past his high forehead   
  
with his spiky dirty-blonde locks, straight nose that, heaven knows how, had escaped being   
  
broken in his many fights, high cheekbones and settled on his mouth – his sinfully beautiful mouth   
  
– with his perfectly molded lips – not too thin, not too thick. She could feel her breath quickening   
  
as her eyes slid down the expanse of his body. His golden skin contrasted with the sky blue   
  
cotton sheets that were tangled about his lean hips, and she could see the sleek expanse of a   
  
muscular calf, well turned ankle and the long slender toes of his feet peeking out from the end of   
  
the sheet at the bottom of the bed.   
  
Her gaze slid back up the beloved body and she started in surprise to see Jason's glacier-blue   
  
eyes staring at her. "Like what you see?" he asked huskily, propping his body up on an elbow.  
  
Against her will, Elizabeth found herself blushing. "I'm finished," she said softly. "Do you want to   
  
see it?"  
  
Jason's eyes glinted. He did want to see the painting but he wanted her much more. Did she   
  
have any idea what she was doing to him perched naked on that stool less than three feet from   
  
him? "Come here," he commanded.  
  
Liz's eyebrows skyrocketed.  
  
"Come here," he commanded, his voice husky with need as he struggled not to drag her to bed.  
  
Liz swallowed audibly, but stood and did as she was told.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The moment he caught sight of the tall brunette striding toward him, Detective Marcus Taggart   
  
groaned. As if the day hadn't started out bad enough, Alexis Davis had to come make it worse.  
  
"Good morning, Lieutenant," Alexis greeted, setting her briefcase on the desk before him.   
  
Taggart wiped the frustration from his face and leaned back in his chair and surveyed the   
  
Corinthos Mouthpiece. "Ms. Davis," he replied. "What can I do for you? I swear, I didn't arrest   
  
your 'Coffee Merchant' or Angerboy last night and deny them access to their lawyer."  
  
Alexis smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "As much as I appreciate your attempt at humour,   
  
Lieutenant, I'm here on a serious matter. Pertaining to the unexplained deaths surrounding two of   
  
my client's employees. Have you made any headway?" she asked, surveying the bald-headed   
  
Detective with a critical eye.  
  
"The PCPD is doing its best, Ms. Davis. We're pursuing every possible lead."  
  
Alexis bit her tongue, struggling not to brand each and every member of the force as incompetent   
  
and narrow-minded and charge that PCPD's *best* simply wasn't good enough. Instead she said   
  
pointedly, "I trust you'll keep my clients and I posted on any developments."  
  
Taggart all but rolled his eyes. "I've promised you before, Counselor and I wouldn't dream of   
  
doing anything but that."  
  
"See that you don't. I see a trend here even if the PCPD doesn't. Innocent people's lives are at   
  
stake here."  
  
Taggart agreed but he couldn't seem to stop from muttering, "About as 'innocent' as one could   
  
get from working for Corinthos."   
  
Alexis's eyes narrowed. It was times like these that she really couldn't stand the self-righteous   
  
bastard, but he had echoed the statement she had told Jason just the day before. "I trust you   
  
won't let that slip of the tongue reach the victim's families."  
  
Taggart's jaw clenched as she swept up her briefcase and sailed out of the PCPD. "Damn it!" he   
  
cursed. Why did Alexis Davis always make him feel like an unfeeling bumbling idiot?  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
From his seat at the counter at Kelly's Lyle surreptitiously watched the redhead on the phone.   
  
The moment she had said the name Courtney, he had perked up and listened to her side of the   
  
conversation. He knew Courtney was the name of Sonny Corinthos' little sister. But he wasn't too   
  
sure if that Courtney and this one were one and the same.  
  
"Still not feeling well, Courtney?" Bobbie Spencer asked concerned. "Have you seen a doctor?"  
  
Back at the loft, Courtney drew a blanket more securely about her. "No… it's nothing serious. I   
  
just caught the flu," she lied, faking a cough. "I've got some pills and I'm drinking lots of liquids."  
  
"Is Jason taking care of you?"  
  
Lyle knew for sure that it couldn't be a coincidence and he subconsciously leaned closer as if he   
  
could somehow hear what was being said on the other side of the line.  
  
At the mere mention of Jason's name, Courtney's heart clenched and she could feel a fresh crop   
  
of tears brimming. "He had to leave town for a bit but I'm being taken care of," she whispered in   
  
reply.  
  
On the other end, Bobbie frowned. She knew something was not quite right, but she couldn't   
  
quite put her finger on it. "Are you sure you're ok, Court? I could send some chicken soup over   
  
with Jason. Just tell him come in and it'll be waiting."  
  
"No, no thanks, Bobbie," she replied, just barely able to keep her voice from getting hysterical.   
  
"I've got some already."  
  
"Ok," Bobbie relented. "Try to get some rest, sweetheart. And call me when you're ready to come   
  
back to work, ok? Have fun will Jason as your nursemaid," she joked.  
  
"Will do. And thanks a lot, Bobbie."  
  
"Sure, no problem." Bobbie set the phone on the hook and took off her apron. "Courtney's still got   
  
the flu," she explained to Tammy, "so, after my shift at the hospital today, I'll be back to help close   
  
up…."  
  
Lyle paid no more attention to the rest of the conversation. He tossed his money on the counter to   
  
pay for his meal and left the diner, heading for the payphone on the corner.   
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Back at the loft, Courtney was a mess. Since she'd thrown her engagement ring at Jason, she   
  
hadn't left the apartment to go to work or anywhere else.   
  
After Jason had walked out, she'd fallen to the floor, keening in her pain. Her eyes had landed on   
  
the ring, still spinning with the momentum after dropping to the floor. Her body had hardened with   
  
resolve and she had snatched up the ring and bounded up the stairs to their bathroom. She   
  
tossed it. And, before she could think about all the memories the ring held or even how expensive   
  
the diamonds and emerald must be, she flushed the toilet. Watching as the ring spun round and   
  
round in the bowl until with a guttural groan, the toilet pumped fresh water up as it sucked the ring   
  
down into the drain and it was gone.   
  
Just like her relationship with Jason.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Lyle cursed the long wait and hoped he would pick up his collect call.  
  
Back in New York, the man picked up the phone.   
  
"Collect call from Port Charles. Would you like to accept the charges?" asked the operator.  
  
He hadn't been expecting this call, so he accepted the call quickly. "Yes?"  
  
"Delano, it's me, Lyle."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Lyle frowned. "Expecting somebody else?"  
  
"I don't believe that's any of your concern, Lyle. Why are you calling me? I hope nothing went   
  
wrong."  
  
"Nah, everything is dandy."  
  
"Then why are you wasting my time? I don't have time for social calls, Lyle. You're only to call me   
  
when you're finished your task or to report something important."  
  
"It is… important, I think."  
  
He gritted his teeth. "Well, hurry up. I'm not paying for you to sing me the song of silence."  
  
Lyle looked around just to make sure no one was listening into his conversation. "Corinthos' sister   
  
is sick. Morgan's probably gonna be playing nursemaid for a while."  
  
"Unlikely," Delano muttered.  
  
"Why not? You know something I don't?" Lyle curiously asked.  
  
He bit his tongue. "Morgan's got more important things to do than play nursemaid to his   
  
girlfriend," he fibbed to placate the other man.  
  
"Think we should back off?" asked Lyle, needing to hear the next part of the plan.  
  
"Not entirely. PCPD got any leads?"  
  
Lyle snorted.  
  
He couldn't help but return the sentiment. "Silly question," Delano admitted. "But I want you to   
  
speed things up a little bit."  
  
"What d'ya mean?"  
  
"I want Rhys dead by tomorrow. I don't care how."  
  
"So soon?" Lyle balked  
  
"Just do it, Lyle! I want to be reading about his 'unfortunate accident' by nightfall tomorrow!"  
  
Without waiting for a reply, he terminated the call.  
  
Three hundred miles away, Lyle replaced the receiver with a sense of trepidation. Something had   
  
gone wrong to piss off Delano, and was causing him to lash out. He only hoped it wouldn't get   
  
them killed and set out towards the docks to set his plan in motion.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Perched at the edge of her bed, Elizabeth watched Jason fasten his belt and zip his fly. If the   
  
sight of his Glock disturbed her she said nothing as he checked the safety and stuffed it into his   
  
waistband at his back. Weapons used to be a bone of contention to her in the past, but she'd   
  
learnt to appreciate them and the fact that they kept her and her family safe. "How're we gonna   
  
do this?" she asked.  
  
Jason pursed his lips in thought. "We just do."  
  
She arched a brow. "Brilliant plan, Morgan."  
  
Jason didn't even pretend to be insulted. He simply knelt before her and took her hand in his. "I   
  
can't tell you what's going to happen, Elizabeth. I just know we have to get it over with. People   
  
only get hurt from sneaking around; from lying and hiding what they're feeling. I don't want to   
  
keep doing that. I'm tired of hiding."  
  
She stroked his beloved face and smiled. "So am I… and I promise not to wear red at your   
  
funeral after my mother kills you though," she added.  
  
Jason could feel a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "You know, that was *so* not funny,   
  
Corinthos."  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: I've decided to end it here, because I wanted you guys to sweat out till next chapter. Nah,   
  
I'm kidding. The next part would make more sense separate, so I've decided to keep it separate. I   
  
hope you enjoyed. Your comments will let me know what's up. R&R, please.  
  
Cara 


	21. Chapter 21

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 21  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: Thank you for last chapter's comments; at the end of the chapter, if you can   
put two and two together, you might not be so grateful though….  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
**There was a pip in his step… a damn *pip* in his step.** Francis observed with   
amusement from his stance, five feet behind the reunited couple.  
  
It was true. Walking through the warmth of the late PC morning, Jason's heart   
couldn't have felt lighter. Even with the constant danger that was part of his   
everyday life, walking the short distance to Kelly's with Elizabeth's hand in his, he   
was happier than he'd been a very long time.  
  
As they passed the diner, he paused. "I'm going to get some coffee. You want   
anything?"  
  
Liz shook her head. "No thanks. I'm just going to wait out here, ok?"   
  
He nodded in satisfaction and turned to enter the diner.  
  
At the tinkle of the little bell above the door, Tammy looked up to see Jason   
Morgan heading towards the counter. "You came after all," she said to him with   
an amused smile.  
  
Jason was confused. Apparently his face told Tammy all she needed to know.   
  
"For the soup," she clarified, going behind the counter and setting a large   
Styrofoam cup on top. "For Courtney…" she trailed off, somehow knowing Jason   
had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.  
  
Jason tried to save face and robotically picked up the container. "I just got back   
into town," he struggled with the lie, not sure why he was even telling one in the   
first place. "Is she sick?"  
  
Tammy seemed to accept his answer at face value. "Sure," she said matter-of-  
factly. "She's got the flu… hasn't been to work since the day after she came back   
from New York City," she explained. "Anything else?"  
  
Inwardly he blanched. Tammy had basically said that Courtney hadn't been to   
work since their fight. He mechanically nodded in reaction to her answer.   
"Coffee."  
  
Tammy turned away with a smile but, with her back to the Enforcer, it dropped   
from her face. Why did she have this feeling that she'd just done something she   
shouldn't have?  
  
Jason accepted the coffee from Tammy, paid and left, gripping the container of   
soup tightly in his hand. Outside he paused on the threshold, staring at Elizabeth   
in quiet conversation with her guard. He looked down at the container of soup. It   
represented some strings that still needed to be tied up.   
  
"Hey," he called out.  
  
Elizabeth turned to him with a questioning smile, immediately noting he didn't   
seem as lighthearted as before.  
  
"Something came up," he continued vaguely knowing that, even if she wanted to,   
she wouldn't push him for an answer as to what. "I have to go take care of   
something."  
  
The light dampened only slightly in Elizabeth's eyes but she crossed over to   
Jason and kissed him lingeringly. "Can we meet in the park after you're through?"   
she asked hopefully, looking up into his eyes. She immediately knew something   
had happened – the walls were up and she couldn't read anything in his gaze.  
  
"Sure," his heart clenching. Unlike him, Elizabeth couldn't hide anything in her   
eyes from him. He turned and walked away before he could make an excuse to   
stay.  
  
From inside Kelly's Tammy watched this scene with an air of astonishment and   
knew for sure that she had set Jason on a path he would have rather not treaded   
on.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Lyle roamed the docks, hoping he would run into Yates at some point in time.   
Sure enough, he soon spotted the brawny ex-Marine leaning against the   
weathered frame of the boardwalk smoking a cigarette.   
  
He eyed Lyle with an air of detachment, but pitched the cigarette into the river   
and pushed off the frame to meet the slight-figured man halfway. On their last   
meeting, Lyle had told him he'd be looking for him when the next part of Delano's   
plan was to be executed in about seven or eight days, but he honestly hadn't   
expected Lyle to come looking for him so soon after the last one. "You're about   
five days early," he said grimly, fishing another cigarette from the battered pack   
of Marlboros in his back pocket.   
  
Lyle shrugged. He could've mentioned that fact to Delano but it was just his job   
to tell Yates what to do. "Something pissed off Delano," he paused and dug into   
his pocket for a matchbox and handed it to Yates who, despite being a smoking   
man for over thirty years, chain-smoked every cigarette.   
  
Yates graciously accepted the matchbox and lit his cigarette. He pulled long on it   
as though he hadn't had nicotine in years instead of less than two minutes ago.   
"Yeah?" that struck him as odd. For as long as he'd known Delano, he never got   
pissed off… well not since childhood and his temper had usually landed him in a   
shitload of trouble then… which was why he got hightailed out of PC before he   
was fourteen.  
  
Lyle nodded. "Rhys Samuels has been marked."  
  
Yates pursed his lips in acceptance. He knew Rhys was an integral part of what   
he liked to refer as Corinthos' Off-Squad. Like Yates, Rhys Samuels was a cold-blooded   
killer when he needed to be; he would have absolutely no qualms of ending this   
man's life. "When?"  
  
"By tomorrow."  
  
Yates's eyes widened. "Is he crazy?"  
  
Lyle shrugged. "I don't want to get too far into the psyche of that man. Just make   
it quick and easy so this whole fucking nightmare can be over."   
  
Yates shrugged too. He wouldn't want to get too far into the psyche of Delano   
Taggliatti either – that whole family was a bunch of psychos. He just worked for   
them. "Alright." He pocketed the matchbox, knowing that Lyle wouldn't want it   
back anyways. "I'll call you when everything is in place."  
  
"Remember, by tomorrow."  
  
Yates rolled his eyes. "I hear you, Lyle. Rhys is a dead man by sundown."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
When Courtney awoke from her nap, she sure as hell hadn't expected to look up   
to see Jason Morgan standing above her. With an unreadable look in his eyes,   
he held out the Styrofoam container to her. She knew it was soup and her heart   
sank – Bobby or someone at the diner must have told him she was 'sick'.  
  
Her eyes were starved for the sight of him she realized, her heart sinking even   
further into her feet. He continued to stare at her with this unreadable look in his   
eyes. He'd never looked at her like that before. It was unnerving.   
  
Still, neither said a word.  
  
Jason took a step back as he looked at this woman he had convinced himself he   
was in love with for two years. She looked terrible – her golden hair was dark   
with grease, her face was pale and drawn with exhaustion.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she immediately lashed out like a wounded animal.  
  
He had been expecting that. He had been expecting the anger – he knew he   
deserved it. "Are you alright?" he asked softly.  
  
Courtney's eyes narrowed. "Like you give a damn!" she hissed, rising up from the   
couch and standing militantly before him.  
  
He did, maybe too much. "I do."  
  
Courtney barked out a laugh. "Don't patronize me, Jason Morgan."   
  
"I'm not." he dragged a frustrated hand through his already spiky blonde hair.  
  
"Nothing is wrong with me, Jason," she lied. "Unless you count having my heart   
ripped out…."  
  
Jason didn't flinch, although inside he felt the brunt of her words.  
  
"You're cold. You don't even care."  
  
"Of course I do, Courtney!"  
  
"If you gave a damn, Jason, you wouldn't have left! You wouldn't be standing   
here in some halfhearted attempt to make yourself feel better!"  
  
"I didn't come here to make myself feel better, Courtney, I came because I was   
worried!"  
  
"Well, now you see there's absolutely nothing for you to be worried about," try as   
she might, she could feel tears pricking at the back of her eyes "so please leave,   
Jason."   
  
"No. I'm not leaving."  
  
"Fine, then I am," she moved to push past him, but Jason caught her arm.  
  
"Get your hands off me!" she exclaimed, wrenching away from his grip.   
  
"You want to hate me, Courtney? Fine! Go ahead! But I'd rather you hate me   
now than me ending up marrying you and having you come to hate me when   
we've got too much baggage to let go!"  
  
"I could never have hated you, Jason," she sobbed. "Never…. Why couldn't you   
have loved me like you loved her? You call her name in your sleep…did you   
know that?"   
  
Jason blanched. No, he hadn't known.  
  
"Leave me in peace, Jason. Just go back and restart everything you had before I   
fucked things up between you."  
  
He knelt before her. "You didn't fuck things –"  
  
She pressed a hand square on his chest and pushed him away before he could   
continue.   
  
That motion said it all. She had pushed him away physically, but the action was   
much more powerful psychologically.  
  
"Fine," he replied, closing the mental door on her. "I'll always be here if you need   
me…" he added as an afterthought.  
  
She listened from beneath her curtain of hair as he quietly closed the door   
behind him as he exited the loft.   
  
**Why now?**  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The moment she caught sight of him at the park, she knew something was   
wrong. He didn't say anything, simply grabbed her hand and started dragging her   
away. Francis hurried to keep up behind them as Jason dragged her towards her   
studio and the door was sliding shut before he caught his breath.  
  
Elizabeth struggled to swallow all the desperation in his body as he practically   
tossed her on her backside in the bed and proceeded to make every inch of her   
body scream for him.  
  
They had spent the entire afternoon in bed and Jason did something she'd never   
seen him do – turn off his cellphone. That had been almost eight hours ago.   
She'd woken up to find him gone, but he'd actually left a note stating that he   
would meet her at her parents' for dinner.  
  
Sonny and Alexis had been pleasantly surprised to find their elder daughter   
grinning outside their door at dinnertime. Sonny had been especially surprised   
when she pushed inside and gave him a kiss on the cheek and asked what was   
for dinner. They'd both gotten over their initial shock and Sonny had replied,   
"Chicken-portabella mushroom Lasagna," much to her delight.  
  
She tried to maintain her cheery outlook as she entertained her baby sister and   
Ric who'd arrived armed with his briefcase and a stack of paper four inches thick   
for her mother to read, about a half-hour later. But as eight o'clock approached   
and dinnertime, her trepidation grew.  
  
Elizabeth was perched on the couch talking to Ric, who had Kristina in his lap   
and a glass of Merlot in his hand, when the door opened.  
  
Jason paused on the threshold as every eye turned to him, even Kristina, who   
was holding her chubby arms out for her uncle Jason. But he had eyes only for   
Elizabeth. He closed the door.  
  
In hindsight, what happened next was pretty funny. He moved as if to greet his   
friends, but instead knelt before Elizabeth and tugged her face towards his and   
fused his lips to her. Alexis's jaw unhinged, Sonny watched in astonishment and   
Ric almost choked on his wine as the couple kissed.  
  
When he pulled away, her face was flushed and she was dazed. If they hadn't   
guessed by the way he kissed her, they certainly knew when he whispered, "I   
love you… don't ever forget it."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Rhys Samuels was foxed.   
  
He knew it and Yates certainly knew it as well.  
  
He stumbled out of the bar and weaved drunkenly to the end of thealley to take a   
leak.  
  
Yates waited until he saw the arched stream of the man's urine before slipping   
the blade from his pocket. Stealthily, he crept up on the guard.  
  
Rhys was belatedly aware that he wasn't alone as he zipped up his pants. But   
before he could turn around to set blurry eyes on the newcomer, he was trapped   
in an ironclad grip and his eyes widened in fear as the blade of the knife caught   
in the harsh neon light of the bar's sign.  
  
Yates pressed a knee in his back and slashed the knife savagely across the   
man's throat.   
  
Rhys's breath whistled from him and his knees buckled. He was dead by the time   
his head hit the brick wall and he fell to the urine-strewn ground.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Andy hummed to the music blaring in his headphones as he carted the garbage   
bags to the Dumpster in the alley. Just as he lifted the bag, he noticed a body   
prone in the corner. He rolled his eyes and dumped the garbage before heading   
over to the body.  
  
"Stupid drunks," he muttered. It was his job, if he found any, to cart them back   
inside the bar, call the cops and have them cart them away to sleep off their   
stupor in a holding cell. He didn't relish the extra responsibility – more than one   
drunken fool had ruined a perfectly good pair of trainers.   
  
As he stopped by the body, he stepped in a fetid puddle of urine. He wrinkled his   
nose at the acrid scent but knelt to the task. As he lifted the man's arms, his head   
lolled to a side and the huge gash across his throat could be clearly seen across   
his pale skin.  
  
Andy started hollering for blue murder. The back door of the bar opened and Sal,   
the night manager spilled out. "Andy, what the fuck!" he cursed, wondering what   
the kid was so worked up over a stupid drunk for.  
  
Andy stepped back and, still hollering, pointed at Rhys's body.  
  
"Holy shit! Call the cops, kid!"  
  
Andy rushed past his boss and the crush of people that had rushed at his   
screaming. As he grabbed for the telephone on Sal's desk he looked down.  
  
Forget vomit… his latest pair of Nikes were full of blood.  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: I hope you enjoyed. R&R and tell me what you think. BTW, if you can't   
remember and you're wondering what's so important about Rhys – in part 1, he   
was part of the crew who helped rescue Kristina.   
  
Cara 


	22. Chapter 22

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 22  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: This self-confessed junkie apologises for her tardiness and thus begs profusely for forgiveness with a new chapter.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Their butts hadn't even begun to warm their seats as they sat down for Awkward Corinthos Dinner no. 1001 when the telephone rang. The adults' heads whipped towards the sound whilst Kristina continued to nibble on her bit-sized cuts of lasagna; in their world, the telephone was never a bearer of good news after a certain time.  
  
Sure enough, when Alexis crossed to answer it, her face had been drained of colour when she'd turned to her family. "It's Benny; there's been another murder."  
  
That had been just over fifteen minutes ago and Alexis, Sonny and Jason had rushed onto the scene – Jason and Sonny to see if it was another of their employees; Alexis to see that they didn't wind up in jail if it was.  
  
That had left Ric and Elizabeth alone with Kristina and, appetites gone, Liz had started to put away the food and clean up whilst Ric carried Kristina upstairs to get ready for bed.  
  
Tasks done, he padded back downstairs to find Elizabeth staring at a painting directly across from her whilst she nursed a glass of the wine they'd planned to sip during dinner. He poured himself a glass and sat down beside her, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt and toeing off his shoes.  
  
"Why are they doing this?" Elizabeth wondered out loud. "Why are they trying to hurt our family?"  
  
Ric was exhausted in both mind and body and heaved a sigh as he answered, "I don't know, Liz… but one thing I do know is they aren't going to stop until we stop them."  
  
"Is it wrong to say I hope we stop them first when we know what that entails?"  
  
Once upon a time, Ric would have actually debated his response, but not anymore. "We have to do everything we can in order to protect or family and that includes our employees."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
There were so many people… so much noise… so much light. It's a miracle no one saw him. But he was wedged between the Dumpsters at the edge of the alley, the only part of the narrow strip not bathed in harsh fluorescent light. He was hiding… hiding from the people teeming about taking pictures and gawking at the man in the middle of the alley with the white plastic sheet covering his body… hiding from The Man, who had stole in and taken the life of the man whilst he was vulnerable… but most of all, hiding from her… that evil woman with no remorse in her eyes.  
  
He started to cry softly, his sobs unheard in the din surrounding the crime scene.   
  
**Oh why can't I just go home?**  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Taggert held back his acid remarks the second he saw Alexis Davis hurry onto the scene behind her two clients. He wasn't quite ready for the level of emotions that flitted across the two Mobsters' faces as, without even asking for permission, they strode past the crime scene tape and unzipped the sheet-like body bag.  
  
"Shit," Sonny cursed softly, looking away upon recognizing the person.  
  
Jason grimaced while Alexis gasped in shock and closed her eyes.  
  
**Rhys** they all thought simultaneously.   
  
"He's got no ID," Taggert informed them from behind. "Care to identify him?" he asked snarkily.  
  
Alexis schooled her features into a businesslike visage, skillfully hiding her irritation with the Detective. "Rhys Samuels, Lieutenant. He was an employee of Mr. Corinthos."  
  
"I'll bet," he muttered beneath his breath.  
  
Jason heard his comment and reflexively his fists clenched, but a look from Alexis halted him.   
  
**Let it slide** she insisted. Instead she turned to the Detective, her voice dripping with icy venom. "My clients and I would appreciate it if you kept your prejudice removed from this case. If you and your 'esteemed' associates over at the PCPD were doing your jobs, maybe we would not have to be constantly gracing you with our company, Detective," the 'esteemed' was dripping with sarcasm and Alexis's brown eyes were flashing like a fuse of dynamite.  
  
Taggert was reduced to making excuses – Alexis was a bit disappointed; Taggert was in fact a good detective – when his prejudices weren't placing a pair of blinders over his eyes, that is. "The killer leaves no calling card, Ms. Davis. He's clean as a whistle – there simply is no evidence!"  
  
"Maybe you're just not *looking* hard enough, *Detective*," Sonny spat out, coming to stand beside his fiancée and lawyer.  
  
The look Alexis shot to him was clear: **Let me do my job, Sonny!**  
  
She turned back to the bald-headed Detective. "As I've told you on numerous occasions, Detective Taggert, there is an obvious pattern. All the victims have been employees of my clients – have you tried looking in *that* department?"  
  
Taggert resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the esteemed and beautiful lawyer. "Forgive me for my sarcasm, Ms. Davis, but the list of your clients' enemies would take an army of three thousand men a year to sift through."  
  
Alexis's eyes narrowed. "Then I suggest you gather your army then, Detective." Without even waiting for a reply, she strode past the police officer to the edge of the crime scene.  
  
The whispers seemed to follow her whenever she was in the company of Sonny and/or Jason – this time was no exception. She knew their presence was going to spark the rumours that someone was out to get the Corinthos family… again. This would probably work to the killer's advantage. Alexis inadvertently shivered when she wondered if the killer was somewhere close by watching the aftermath of his work.   
  
Sonny noticed this action and moved close to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and asking what was wrong. "I was wondering if the killer was still close by. Some do that, you know. They want to see what happens after they've committed their crime."  
  
Jason nodded in understanding. He had wondered the same thing. "After the PCPD leaves I think I'll stick around and see if I find anything."  
  
Alexis shook her head. "As much as I hate to admit it, Taggert was right when he said the killer's clean as a whistle… you didn't find anything the last time you checked, do you think you'll find anything now?"  
  
Sonny squeezed her shoulder. "Since when did you become so pessimistic?"  
  
Alexis managed to smile, albeit wearily and without good humor, "You pay me to 'keep it real', as some misguided hip-hop teenager would say. That's what I'm doing."  
  
Jason shrugged. "Maybe we're just grasping at straws, but I'd feel better if I stayed behind to have another look."  
  
"Fine," conceded Alexis.  
  
"Sonny," a voice called. Lucky Spencer was heading towards them. "We need to inform the next-of-kin. Have any idea how to contact them?" he asked.  
  
Sonny shook his head. "Rhys was a foster kid from Chicago. He's got nobody."  
  
That statement nearly broke her heart. Rhys had been a bodyguard and maybe worst for Sonny but no one deserved to die like that knowing there's no one to mourn for them.  
  
Lucky nodded. "You and Alexis need to come down to the station then and sort out the paperwork."  
  
Jason watched them go as Lucky headed back to the other congregating police officers and Alexis and Sonny headed to their car that would take them to the PCPD station. He whipped out his cellphone and dialed a familiar number. "Yeah, Francis," he called when the person answered, "It's Jason. I need you to get here ASAP. I'm in the alley behind Louie's on the docks."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
Jason disappeared from the scene soon after Sonny and Alexis had left to go to the Station. Francis had arrived soon after that, armed with a duffle with plastic Zip-loc bags, surgical gloves and tweezers. They were waiting in the shadows just beyond the alley and were set to do their own set of detective work after the 'professionals' vacated the scene, though it was doubtful they would find anything.   
  
Jason checked his watch – it was just approaching midnight. **Maybe I should call, Elizabeth** he thought. Resigned to see that the PCPD still had not all left, he whipped out his cell and called Elizabeth's. She answered on the third ring.  
  
"Hello?" came Elizabeth's voice.  
  
"Hey."  
  
"Jason?" she called, immediately flooded with warmth, coupled with concern. "Where are you?"  
  
"I'm on the docks. I want to check out the scene after the PCPD leaves," he explained.  
  
"Who was it this time?" she asked softly.  
  
"Rhys," he replied after a short pause.  
  
Elizabeth gasped on the other end. She knew Rhys had been instrumental in retrieving Kristina after she's been kidnapped not so long ago. "How?" she asked, though not terribly sure she wanted to hear the answer.  
  
"His throat was slashed," he answered immediately – it didn't make sense fudging; she would probably find out how the man had died from tomorrow's papers anyways.   
  
"Oh no…"  
  
"I'm probably not going to back for a while," he continued in explanation. "Are you going to stay at the Penthouse?"  
  
Inwardly Elizabeth smiled. She knew Jason had never done this before – called in to let her know where he was and what he was doing – she would treasure this call. "No, I'll wait till my parents get back then let Ric drop me back to the studio."  
  
"Ok, fine."  
  
"Jason," she hurriedly called, before he could end the call, "be careful," she implored.  
  
"I will."  
  
"I love you," she continued.  
  
"I love you, too," he automatically replied before terminating the call.  
  
Jason uncharacteristically rolled his eyes as, beside him, Francis shot his a smug grin. Finally the last of the flashing lights from the police cruiser disappeared. It was time to get cracking. "Let's go," he said, opening the door and getting out. Francis followed, the duffle bag in hand.  
  
They had decided to split the alley in half, Jason combing the entrance and the area above the chalk-mark; Francis covered the other side behind the chalk mark. There was so much to sift through – it was difficult to discern what was evidence from what was garbage.   
  
They'd been at it for a good hour when a small shriek rent the air and Francis jerked back as though he'd been burnt. "Sweet Mother of God!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide and his mouth dropping open.  
  
Jason turned to the guard and reached for his gun to help defend himself just as Francis started to wave him over frantically.   
  
"Jason, you need to get over here, now!"  
  
Jason hurried over, pulling his gun from his holster, just in case. What he saw halted him in his tracks. Shoved in the corner between a fetid Dumpster and the dirtier brick wall, tear-streaked, soot-stained and recoiling from the two men with his arms around his knees and rocking back and forth was a little boy….  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: Dun-dun-dun! Whoa, Nellie! Questions, questions… who is that little boy? Did he see the crime? So many questions, so little time. Drop me a line to let know what you thought.  
  
Cara 


	23. Chapter 23

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 23  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: Thank you for last chapter's comments. Needless to say that this little boy will have a large part to play within upcoming chapters. This is also I guess the best time to announce that I plan to install another part to this series. I've already got a basic plan for the new fic, but if you've got any ideas on plots, just drop me a line. Enjoy!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Jason remained frozen place before his mind and senses caught back up with him and his mind began to swiftly assess the situation. His head whipped back and forth from the little boy to the crime scene behind. Inwardly, he blanched – if the boy had been here as long as he thought he'd been he'd probably been a witness to the crime.   
  
He was in a conundrum.   
  
Any sane person would have whipped out their cellphone and dialed for the police to report there was a possible witness to the crime. But, he could later claim, the shock of his discovery had rendered him temporarily insane and instead, he cautiously approached the little boy.  
  
He whimpered and withdrew farther into the dark.   
  
Drawing on the patience he knew was necessary when dealing with a scared child – knowledge he'd stored since he'd been Michael's guardian – Jason crouched down as he slowly approached the boy and spoke softly and assuredly. "Hey there. What are you doing behind here?" he asked good-naturedly, in an effort to put the boy at ease.  
  
At the soothing sound of his voice, the boy's eyes widened but he still recoiled from Jason.  
  
"I'm not going to hurt you," Jason assured the little boy, who was about to run out of space. "My name is Jason." The boy stared at him blankly. "What's yours?"  
  
The boy ran out of space just as Jason reached him and when the Enforcer reached out to him, he started to shriek again. Jason surged forward and clamped a hand over the little boy's mouth and lifted him into his arms, not caring that the little boy was covered in filth and stank faintly of rotten… fish?   
  
The youth squirmed mightily in Jason's arms and despite his superior strength he found it a valiant effort to keep his nimble little body was slipping from his arms. He could feel the little boy's mouth opening and closing with his smothered screams.   
  
Jason had to act fast.  
  
"Grab the bags," he ordered to Francis, who was staring at their quarry in shock. "We gotta get out of here now!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It was just after midnight but police headquarters was still a hive of activity. Reporters struggled to get details before the morning edition went to press and the latest roundup of the dock's prostitutes were waiting to be processed whilst Alexis and Sonny gave all the necessary information pertaining to Rhys to Lucky. She was just haggling with the young cop about when his body would be released when her cellphone rang.   
  
Wondering who would be calling her at this hour, she checked the caller-ID to see it was Jason. Sonny had seen it as well and lifted a dark eyebrow while keeping an ear on Lucky. She exchanged a worried glance with Sonny before excusing herself and heading for a slightly quieter corner in the noisy bullpen. "Yes?" she answered anxiously.  
  
"We have a problem," came Jason's worried voice.   
  
Alexis closed her eyes and tried to ward off an impending headache. "What is it? Did you find anything?"  
  
"You could say that." There was a slight scuffle in the background and she could've sworn she heard Francis curse in the background and Jason came back on the line. "Can't talk right now, just get back to the Penthouse as soon as you can!"  
  
"Jas --". Before Alexis could ask why, Jason had terminated the call. She stared at the cellphone in worry and looked up to see Taggert watching her like a hawk. Immediately, all traces of worry dropped from her face and she turned her back to him and headed back to the interrogation room.  
  
"Are we through, Officer Spencer?" she asked, the picture of professionalism even though she was speaking to her nephew's younger brother.  
  
Confusion furrowed Lucky's brow but he didn't have any legitimate reason to keep them there any further. "Sure. I'll have the Coroner call you when Samuels's body is released."  
  
"Thank you," she demurred.  
  
Sonny nodded in the younger man's direction and together, heads held high, ignoring the hostile looks from many of the police officers there, they exited the building.  
  
Once outside and safely ensconced in their limo, Sonny turned to her questionably and asked, "What did Jason want? Did he find anything?"  
  
"He didn't say much. Just practically ordered us back to the Penthouse." The two mulled over this is silence before Alexis finally continued. "Why do I have a feeling that things just got a *lot* more complicated?"  
  
Sonny smirked ruefully. "To tell you the truth, querida, I'd be worried if they hadn't."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
By the time Sonny and Alexis stepped through the door, Elizabeth was slumped on her uncle's shoulder and Ric's sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and he was well into his fourth glass of wine. Elizabeth groggily sat up and they both turned to the couple expectantly.  
  
"How'd it go?" Ric asked his brother's fiancée.  
  
"It was Rhys," Alexis answered tiredly.  
  
"We know," he replied. "Jason called," he explained when Alexis looked at him curiously.  
  
Sonny's mouth tightened for just a fraction of a second but he said nothing.   
  
"Where *is* Jason?" asked Alexis, loosening her hair from the bun she'd twisted it in since the day before. "He practically ordered us back here," she continued, flopping onto the couch and taking her daughter's head in her lap.  
  
Before anyone could say another word, the door swung open and Jason and Francis stepped inside. What they saw gave them pause. Settled on Jason's shoulder was just about the filthiest but most beautiful little boy they'd ever seen….  
  
The boy was asleep and Jason carried him as though he would break. More than likely, if the boy woke up again, he would start shrieking in that strange language again. By the time they had made it back to the car on the docks, Jason figured that the boy didn't understand English and that was one of the reasons why he wasn't calmed by Jason's words – he obviously hadn't understood them. He'd made a conscious effort for his body language to do the talking but *that* hadn't worked either and he had continued to struggle with the two men, even biting Francis's palm which was the cause for the bodyguard's outburst while he'd been on the phone with Alexis. When he realized that he couldn't get away, he'd started to cry and had eventually cried himself to sleep, hunched against Francis in the passenger seat of the car.  
  
Elizabeth sat up; she was perfectly awake by now and she stared at the little boy. "That's a little boy," she announced shortly, wrinkling her nose at his stench even as she gazed at his face in awe.  
  
He was around five or six years old and small-boned already, his face was slightly gaunt and his skin, under all the dust and filth, was a perfect shade of olive. A shock of dark hair the colour of a raven's wing fell into his face just above his eyes closed now in repose, with mile-long eyelashes the colour of coal settled on the tops of his cheeks.  
  
"Where'd you find him?" asked Sonny coming over to the couch to share his fascination with the others.  
  
Jason exchanged a look with Francis before diving into his tale of discovery. By the time he was through, Alexis could feel a headache springing up.   
  
"You should have taken him to the police, Jason," she all but scolded. "He might have been a witness to the crime."  
  
"I didn't know what to do, Alexis. He started screaming… that's why I called you."  
  
"Well, we can't keep him, Jason."  
  
"Why not?" he asked, tightening his grip around the little boy.  
  
"Do you hear yourself talking, Jason? This boy may have seen who murdered Rhys; he's the first breakthrough we've had in weeks. Besides, he's not a stray puppy – you can't just pick him up from the streets, take him home and call him yours. He's probably a runaway – people are probably out searching for him."   
  
Alexis had no idea just how right she was. The little boy squirmed in Jason's arms and she paused, wondering if he would wake up. He slept on. She looked down at the little boy and felt a tug in her heart. He looked so peaceful in Jason's arms, Alexis almost didn't have the heart to continue, but she did anyways. "I'm an officer of the court and we're trying to find out who's killing off our employees. The answer is lying there in your arms, Jason; I cannot willingly turn a blind eye to this. We need to call the police."  
  
Elizabeth could see the strain her mother's words was putting on him and she reached out to lend a hand, settling her hand on his forearm to lend him comfort. That gesture of affection was not lost on anyone.   
  
Alexis looked at him expectantly and crossed to the telephone when he gave her a slight nod. She had lifted the phone from the hook and was in the process of dialing downtown when the boy started thrashing in his sleep.  
  
"Mama… Papa!" he called, his small arms flailing in his sleep as he continued to call out.  
  
Alexis dropped the phone with a clatter and turned to the rest, her face white as a sheet. Elizabeth's reaction mirrored hers.  
  
"Greek…" they murmured simultaneously in shock. The boy was screaming in Greek….  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
He couldn't have known that he was screaming in his sleep. They wouldn't have cared anyway. In fact, they laughed when ever he got emotional and cried, which was why he tried his hardest not to cry in front of them.  
  
He didn't know how they'd found him again, when he had tried to be so careful but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.   
  
He sighed for Mama and Papa and they appeared, smiling at him and holding their arms out to them. They were at the beach behind their house and he was almost blinded by the glare reflecting off the sand as he stared at them. He started to smile and run towards them but the more he ran the further it seemed they got from him. He started to whimper. "Mama, Papa? Stop! Don't go!"   
  
A great dark rustling wind blew in from the see and he could hear the maniacal laughter of the woman, cackling at him as he looked up to see her face emerging from the clouds.  
  
He tried to run to his parents as fast as his little legs would take him, but the swirling wind was surrounding them by now and they were crying out in pain. "Mama, Papa, no! Stop! Get away from them!" he struggled to make it to them.  
  
The woman's maniacal laughter rang in his ears as she swallowed her parents up in the dark cloud and whisked them away from him. "Don't go!" he begged, even as the cloud disappeared and he was left standing alone on the beach as though nothing had ever happened.  
  
His eyes snapped open and he found himself surrounded by the faint scent of gardenias and wrapped in the arms of a woman who felt a lot like his mother.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Hearing the little boy scream out was too much for her and Alexis crossed the distance between them and gathered him in her arms, ignoring his stench and clutching his body to hers.  
  
She heard Elizabeth gasp and somehow she knew the little boy had come awake. She gently pushed away from the boy and looked at him. She was not prepared for the full impact of his beauty.  
  
Asleep he'd been beautiful; awake he had the countenance of a Botticelli angel, with the eyes of a lion. They were light brown, so light as to be amber or the colour of burnt brown sugar. A ring of gold surrounded his pupils and there were flecks of gold in his irises. Right now, there were filled with tears and they made salty tracks in his grimy face.  
  
Time seemed to stay still as the two took stock of each other. His eyes widened as he took in her face and then flitted to his surroundings and the strange people around him before settling on her face.  
  
**She is so beautiful** he thought, unconscious of the fact that his hand had reached out to caress her face with childlike wonder. Her skin was the same shade as his and her brown eyes were steady and unwavering as she permitted him to inspect her. She smelt of gardenias and that scent immediately gave him comfort – he knew he was safe; this woman would never do anything to hurt him.  
  
The others could only stare in wonder as they two continued to stare at each other as though they were the only two people in the world.  
  
"Hello," she said softly in Greek.  
  
His eyes widened like saucers but he said nothing.  
  
Alexis was not deterred. "My name is Alexis," she continued, speaking in her native language.   
  
**Alexis** he let the name roll over him like a wave of warmth but kept silent.  
  
"What's yours?" Alexis asked.  
  
Still the little boy said nothing.   
  
Alexis looked helplessly over at her daughter. Hoping her action wouldn't startle to the boy, Elizabeth laid a hand on his thin shoulders. He jumped, but didn't scream and for the moment turned to her. "Hello, my name is Elizabeth," she announced, her dulcet tones sweeping over his ears.  
  
**Elizabeth** he felt comforted by her presence as well.   
  
"That's my father, Sonny," she continued, pointing over to him, standing just behind the couch, "and my uncle Ric, and my friend Francis and," she pointed behind him, "this is Jason."  
  
The boy turned to the man he'd been so sure had been out to hurt him but instead had brought him here. The boy stared unflinchingly at the man – Jason was a little in awe, after all, some *adults* couldn't look him in the eye.  
  
"You're safe little one," Sonny spoke up, forgetting that the little boy didn't understand him.  
  
His eyes went to this man. He reminded him a lot of his father, except he was not as tall. His voice was different as well, but contained the same harnessed power. Sonny smiled at him... the dimples were the same. It was uncanny.  
  
He sensed rather than saw Alexis smile. "Yes, little one, you *are* safe. *Now* will you tell us your name?"  
  
The little boy seemed to debate his answer and long seconds passed before he answered. "Zico," he answered softly. "My name is Zico."  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: I guess you can consider this a bit of a filler chapter but necessary nonetheless. I guess you've come to the conclusion that actual romance will be put on the backburner as the action/adventure/suspense takes center stage. I doubt the name Zico (pronounced Zee-co) is Greek but it sounded a little exotic – I have a friend named Zico; he would be proud, lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed. Don't forget to review! 


	24. Chapter 24

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 24  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: First off, I'd like to apologise profusely for the delay in getting this chapter out –   
needless to say that life and all that was a major headache for the past weeks; I'm sorry.   
That said, thank you muchly for last chapter's comments; I really appreciated them. Keep   
them coming and I hope you enjoy this chapter.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Would it be wrong if I said this is all more than a little weird?"  
  
Mother and daughter were speaking in whispers and Alexis sighed heavily as she quietly   
closed the bedroom door behind her. "No, it wouldn't," she replied. They had just put   
Zico to bed, after his much needed bath of course. The little boy had been asleep before   
his head even touched the pillow; he was so exhausted.  
  
"Poor kid," sighed Elizabeth, looking at the closed door, thinking of the sleeping child   
within. "Do you think he saw anything?" They hadn't had much time to talk to him   
before his eyes began shutting down in renewed exhaustion.   
  
Alexis nodded and started to make her way down the hall. "Without a doubt." She   
paused, "He seems scared… but I have a feeling that it's not just because of the murder."   
  
Downstairs, Ric, Jason and Sonny looked up as they heard the women's soft voices. "Is   
he asleep?" came Sonny's concerned voice.  
  
Alexis nodded, as she made her way to the couch and settled in beside her fiancé. "He   
was sleeping before I even got him out of the tub."  
  
"What are we going to do?" the question came from Jason.  
  
Alexis frowned. "There's not much that we *can* do, Jason. Zico may have been a   
witness to a crime; we need to find out what he knows."  
  
"Will you take him to the police?" He couldn't help it if his tone was a bit accusatory.   
  
Alexis frowned – she had tried to weigh the pros and cons. Zico obviously wasn't an   
American citizen and was in a lot of trouble– thus, people might be out looking for him,   
good or bad was difficult to determine. However, he *had* seen the murder and they   
needed to find the murderer badly. Yes, she nodded finally. "I'll call Mac Scorpio in the   
morning."  
  
Jason grit his teeth but said nothing. Sensing his obvious distress, Elizabeth laid a   
comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezed.   
  
"Listen," said Ric after a huge yawn. "It's after three. The kid obviously isn't going to be   
saying anything else. What do you say we all turn in?"  
  
"Yeah," nodded Sonny, looking away from the pair his daughter and his partner made.   
"That's a good idea."  
  
Ric stood up and gathered his rumpled jacket and briefcase. "I'll meet you at the PCPD at   
nine?" he asked his partner.  
  
"Make that ten," advised Alexis. "I have a feeling Zico might be asleep for a while."  
  
Ric nodded in satisfaction and took his leave, closing the door softly behind him.  
  
With his departure an awkward silence descended on the foursome. With all the   
subsequent drama after Jason's less than subtle declaration of love for Elizabeth, there'd   
been no time to talk about their renewed romance… until now.  
  
Sonny opened his mouth to ask just what was going on when Alexis, sensing his   
imminent interrogation, poked him in the ribs and shot him a look that said, don't start.  
  
"See you in the morning?" she asked her daughter.  
  
Elizabeth was inwardly filled with relief. "Yeah."  
  
Sonny and Alexis watched as Jason helped Liz gather her things and with a quiet   
goodnight, they left.   
  
Sonny turned to his fiancée. "Why'd you do that for?"  
  
"Oh, hush, Sonny. There's time enough for that in the morning."   
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Elizabeth snuggled closer to Jason as they made their way through the parking garage to   
Jason's motorcycle. "We got off tonight," she mused softly.  
  
Jason smirked a little. "I know," he echoed, and handed her a helmet.  
  
There was a faraway look in his eyes and Liz paused. "He's ok, you know," she said,   
guessing he'd been thinking about Zico.  
  
Jason nodded his head. "I know he is… for now," he added ominously. "If the murderer   
finds out that there was a witness, Zico might be in danger."  
  
Elizabeth smiled softly. "That's what he's got *you* for."  
  
Jason pursed his lips; every protective instinct he'd harbored and thought he'd lost when   
he'd first lost Michael was rearing to the surface. He felt some need to protect this little   
boy and pledged he would do everything in his power to ensure that he was safe. "Yeah,"   
he replied, smiling at Elizabeth. "Let's go."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
New York City (early morning)  
  
It was a wild night and the music in the club was so loud he hadn't heard his cellphone   
when it went off. It was only when he'd settled back in the plush velvet seat in the VIP   
lounge and he'd fished the phone from his pocket did he realize the message light was   
flashing.   
  
Delano leaned back in the seat and nonchalantly watched the practically half-naked   
bodies gyrating on the crowded dance floor below. All around him, the beautiful and   
privileged smoked their cigarettes and drank their Cristal as he checked his messages.  
  
The first two were about work and he mentally shifted them to the back of his mind. The   
third brought a smile to his face. It was Lyle and the message was simple: "It's done. Call   
me when you need me."  
  
**Excellent** he thought. Things were right on schedule.   
  
"What's got you so happy?" came a seductive voice close to his ear.  
  
Delano turned to the woman beside him. Blonde and busty, she was perfect for a   
celebration fuck. "Nothing you can't top," he replied suggestively, slipping the phone   
back into his jacket pocket.  
  
"I'm sure," she purred in reply and slipped into his lap, not caring they were in a room   
full of people. **God!** he thought as she undulated her hips against his lap, he loved   
New York City!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Port Charles (later that morning)  
  
Courtney spit out her orange juice as she read the glaring newspaper headline:   
BODYGUARD'S BODY FOUND IN DOCKSIDE ALLEY. She visibly paled as she   
read the subsequent article. They had given Rhys's name and age as well as the fact that   
he'd worked for Sonny. Then the journalist had begun to speculate if this was a serial   
killer on the loose and indeed whether he was doing the citizens of Port Charles a favor   
by ridding the city of Mafia riff-raff. That last line made Courtney's stomach roil and she   
tossed the paper on the table and hurried to the kitchen sink where she proceeded to hurl   
what was left of her stomach contents into the sink.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Elizabeth sighed heavily and rolled towards the source of warmth beside her. Jason   
smiled softly as she slipped her right thigh between his, slid her hand over his chest and   
pressed a soft wet kiss on his shoulder. He threaded his hand through the curls at the nape   
of her neck and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.  
  
Finally giving up going back to sleep, Liz opened sleepy blue eyes to find Jason looking   
down at her. "Mornin'" she murmured sleepily.  
  
"Mornin'" Jason echoed.   
  
Liz yawned and sat up, the strap of her tank top falling down, baring a creamy expanse of   
shoulder. "What time is it?" she asked Jason.  
  
He glanced at his watch. "Seven thirty."  
  
Yikes! "After last night, I thought I wouldn't get up on the left side of noon." Liz paused   
and looked at Jason. "What about you? Sleep?"  
  
Jason shrugged. "A little," he admitted. Truthfully, he'd been too focused on thinking   
about Zico to get much sleep. "I want to be there when Alexis takes Zico to the PCPD,"   
he added, clueing her into what he was feeling.  
  
Elizabeth paused. "Do you think that's such a good idea? I mean Taggert's bound to try   
and spin this somehow."  
  
"Let him. Alexis will deal with him."  
  
Liz smirked. It was fun to see Taggert try to tangle with her mother. "Well, you better get   
moving. She and Ric are due there at ten."  
  
Jason nodded and slipped out of bed. "What about you?" he asked.  
  
She shrugged. "Probably stay here and paint a little. I have standing orders," she added,   
the pride suffusing her voice.  
  
Jason smiled, the simple action telling her all she needed to know – he was proud of her   
as well. "I'm going to grab a shower."  
  
Liz grinned devilishly. "Need me to scrub your back?"  
  
A rare smile found its way to his face. "Always."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Casa Corinthos (same time)  
  
"Can you believe this shit?" Sonny exclaimed incredulously and tossed the paper across   
the breakfast table.  
  
Alexis, who'd been reading the New York Times, dropped her paper and picked up The   
Port Charles Chronicle. Her eyes widened as she read the headline and narrowed in fury   
as she read the rest of the story. She managed to read it all, although she was tempted to   
toss the paper just as her fiancé had. "This reporter's just begging for a lawsuit," she   
muttered.  
  
"Fucking reporters," grumbled Sonny, taking a hasty sip of coffee. "You'd think I was   
the Devil Incarnate the way he's going on."  
  
Alexis held her tongue. To the 'good' citizens of Port Charles, Sonny Corinthos *was*   
very much the definition of the Devil Incarnate.  
  
Sonny sighed and wiped the last lingering evidence of his fatigue from his face. It was   
seven thirty and he was already dressed for work; Alexis was still clad in her midnight   
blue silk robe. "Shit…." The last twenty-four hours were weighing heavily on him. He   
couldn't wait for Zico to tell them what he'd seen. Unfortunately, he couldn't be there –   
one of the five families was getting antsy with all the publicity and had had the audacity   
to call him at five-thirty this morning to tell him the families wanted a ten o'clock   
meeting. He was due to meet Benny at the warehouse office in half an hour to discuss   
strategies.   
  
"Zico'll come through. I know it," Alexis said softly.  
  
Sonny cocked a brow. "He shouldn't have to."  
  
Alexis shrugged. "But he has to. This way, we can go about things the right way…."  
  
Her sentence hung in the air. Sonny didn't even bother – her words were like a fuse line   
and his reply could be the possible spark. He knew they would never see eye-to-eye on   
the pursuit of justice. But he couldn't resist adding: "If the PCPD doesn't fuck up, as   
usual."  
  
"They won't. Not this time. I promise you."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
After Sonny had left for the office, Alexis loaded the dishwasher and headed upstairs.   
She checked on Kristina first and the two-year-old was still fast asleep before heading   
across the hall to what had been Michael's old room and peeking in – Zico was still dead   
to the world. She smiled – he'd kicked his covers off, just like Elizabeth used to do when   
she was his age.  
  
Just as she made to leave the room, the little boy began to wriggle and eventually he   
woke up. He lay there for a few seconds and sat up as if trying to figure out where he   
was.  
  
"Good morning," called Alexis in Greek.  
  
Zico's head snapped up and recognition dawned on his face.  
  
"Good morning," he replied softly, shyly smiling at her.  
  
"How did you sleep?"  
  
"Good."  
  
Alexis smiled as she made her way over to the bed, his beautiful amber eyes following   
her the whole way. "Are you hungry?" she asked, kneeling before him.   
  
Zico nodded.  
  
"Great!" she replied, holding out her hand. "I'm not much of a cook," she admitted   
conspirationally as he hesitantly took her hand in his, "but we've got cereal. You like   
cereal?"  
  
Confusion furrowed Zico's brow. "What's cereal?" he asked.  
  
Alexis gasped exaggeratingly. "You *don't* know what cereal is?" Zico shook his head   
and they descended the stairs. "It's only the best food on earth… after popcorn, of   
course."  
  
"Popcorn?"  
  
That was how Jason found them when he let himself into the apartment half an hour later;   
sitting around the breakfast table with about six cereals – Cap'n Crunch, Honey-Nut   
Cheerios, Cocoa Crispies, Frostie's, Lucky Charms and Corn Pops – spread out before   
them. Zico was talking to Alexis in Greek whilst Kristina, who'd wandered down about   
ten minutes earlier, slurped milk from her cereal bowl. Alexis looked up at the intrusion   
and smiled when she realized it was Jason. "Look, Zico," she said in Greek, pointing to   
the dirty-blonde, "Jason's here."  
  
Zico turned around and offered a shy smile.   
  
"Eat up," she encouraged. "I'll be right back."  
  
Zico nodded and turned around again, shoveling Cocoa Crispies into his mouth.   
  
"Morning," she said, heading into the living room.  
  
"Morning," he echoed. "I wanted to go with you to the PCPD this morning, but some   
meeting came up."  
  
"I know," Alexis replied. "Sonny's already at the warehouse. Don't worry, we'll be fine."  
  
Jason nodded slowly. "So… this going to the police… what does it mean?"  
  
Alexis found her gaze straying toward the kitchen. "Well, he'll give a statement and I'll   
petition to have his name kept anonymous or at least sealed in the public records. He's a   
minor and he's not an American citizen, so there might be some problems with INS and   
DCFS, but I'll petition for him to be released into my care on account that I can actually   
verbally communicate with him. Other than that," she heaved a sigh, "there's not much I   
can do."  
  
"Did he tell you anything this morning? His full name? How old he is? What he was   
doing hiding on the docks?"  
  
"Actually, his full name is Zico Constantine and he's five years old. Anything else about   
him, he's a veritable clam."  
  
"He didn't say anything about the murder?"  
  
"Whenever I bring it up, he gets so scared and he doesn't even look me in the eye."  
  
"If he won't talk to you, what makes you think he'll talk to the police?"  
  
Alexis shrugged. "We have to try, Jason. Don't you want to find out who's murdering   
your employees?"  
  
"Of course I do, Alexis; I just think we should go about it a different way."  
  
"And what way would that be, Jason?" she asked in as heated a whisper as he. "Muscling   
our way over on the docks? Because, so far, that's not working. I know you don't like the   
PCPD much; frankly I completely agree with your opinion there but Zico may be the   
only chance we have."  
  
After a pregnant pause, Jason reluctantly nodded. "You won't let Taggert bully him?"  
  
"Of course not. But I don't think Taggert's *that* much of an ogre to take his displeasure   
out on a child." The look Jason leveled her made Alexis rethink her words. "Point taken."  
  
"Good luck then," he said, his sensitive ears picking out Kristina's giggles in the kitchen.   
  
"I could say the same for you, too."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Mac Scorpio's day wasn't going that well. And it was barely 9:55. And in five minutes, a   
certain long-legged brunette lady-lawyer was bound to make it a helluva lot worse. He   
tossed the PC Chronicle from him and rubbed his temples, wondering which bumbling   
idiot on the force had let out what was supposed to be confidential information.  
  
Taggert ambled in, his expression blank. "You read the paper this morning?" his voice   
was curious, with just a hint of anger.   
  
"Yeah," replied Mac, taking a sip of the diesel fuel masquerading as coffee. He grimaced   
at the taste – damn he would kill for a proper cup of coffee or a shot of vodka… anything   
to prepare him for the storm that was bound to erupt the moment Alexis Davis stepped   
into his office.   
  
"Can't anybody in this frickin' department keep their mouths shut?"  
  
"I was here wondering the same thing," came a voice from behind Taggert.  
  
Both men inwardly groaned. She was early.   
  
Taggert stepped aside and turned around. "Ms. Davis. Lansing," he nodded at Ric,   
standing just behind his partner. He looked at the little boy with curiosity but, for once,   
kept his mouth shut. There was time enough for questions later.  
  
"Good morning, Detective. Mac."  
  
"Good morning, Alexis. Lansing." He stared at Zico who was looking around in anxiety   
and confusion, clinging to Alexis's hand. "Who's the little boy?"  
  
Alexis smirked mirthfully and tightened her hold on Zico's hand. "Think of him   
as an early birthday present."  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: Did you like? I threw in the tiniest bit of Liason moments there. I hope you liked   
them. Drop me a line to let me know. Next chapter: Does Zico tell them what he saw?   
What happens at the meeting of the Five Families? Just what *is* wrong with   
Courtney? 


	25. Chapter 25

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 25  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: Thanks for all the comments for last chapter. Some of your curiosity about Zico's   
background will be answered here, but only the barest hint. As I've mentioned, I'm   
planning a third part in the series and Zico will play a central role in that installment, so   
you'll just have to sit and stew for a bit longer, lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy. Don't   
forget to read and review.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Sonny cursed softly, a sentiment wholeheartedly agreed with by Jason.  
  
They were early.  
  
They, meaning the Five Families.  
  
Well, actually, the *three* other families since the demise of Joseph Taggliatti and the   
subsequent handing over of his operation to Sonny and Jason.  
  
Max slowed the car and Johnny, riding in front with him, got out and opened the door for   
his bosses. Sonny and Jason exited quickly, nodding at the stern-faced guard stationed   
outside the heavy steel door at the entrance to the warehouse. The guard nodded in reply   
and pulled back the door, indicating that they should pass through. Johnny followed   
Sonny and Jason inside the building and stationed himself along the wall behind their   
seats, while Max remained outside with the others.  
  
"Good morning, Mr. Corinthos, Mr. Morgan."  
  
The greeting came from Paulie di Rossi, the heir-apparent of the di Rossi family.  
  
Sonny barely resisted the urge to narrow his eyes at the younger man. He'd done business   
with the elder di Rossi, Tony, for many years, but the old man's health was failing and   
he'd begun handing over the reins to his eldest son. In the power struggle that had   
threatened to erupt after the Taggliatti debacle, di Rossi had tried to challenge Sonny for   
power, a quest obviously he had failed at, but a grudge still remained, a major blip in   
their alliance. No doubt it had been him who'd called the meeting.   
  
"Good morning gentleman," Sonny replied. Jason simply nodded in greeting; he never   
had much to say at these meetings. Sonny looked around at his allies – the di Rossi 'boy',   
Raphael Imperioli and Franco de Luca – none of them looked pleased. No doubt, either,   
that Paulie had planted a seed of doubt in their minds. "I assume you have some   
concerns," he continued, his tone deceptively mild. The other men practically started   
squirming in their seats. "Let's talk, shall we?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Courtney practically jumped out of her skin as the door closed loudly behind her.  
  
"Good morning, Ms. Matthews, sorry to keep you waiting; I had to check on a patient."  
  
Courtney's smile was tremulous. "That's ok, Dr. Meadows."  
  
Dr. Meadows nodded and tossed a file onto her desk as she rounded it to sit. "So, dear, I   
got those test results from your last visit."  
  
"And?" she couldn't help the feeling of anxiety from humming in her veins.  
  
"Well, it seems all systems go. You checked out just fine; there's nothing here to suggest   
any possible hazards for any future pregnancies."  
  
Courtney's breath expelled rapidly. "Wow… you have no idea how relieved I am to hear   
that."  
  
Confusion furrowed the older woman's brow. "Why is that?"  
  
The blonde bit her lip. "I think I'm pregnant."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
When Alexis explained the meaning of her words, Mac and Taggert's dumbfounded   
expressions were priceless. God, she wished she had a camera! It had lasted all about ten   
whole seconds before Taggert, the doubting Thomas, burst Alexis's bubble. Thankfully,   
Mac's common sense had overridden the detective's doubt and now they sat in a locked   
conference room awaiting Zico's statement.  
  
Alexis had delicately explained that Zico didn't speak English and she would therefore   
have to interpret because he spoke Greek. Mac's eyebrows skyrocketed at that confession   
and he'd said, while he respected the reputation of a certain long-legged brunette, a jury   
wouldn't; thus some green rookie had been dispatched down the street to enlist the help   
of a certain fat mustached baker who'd helped the PCPD in these situations before.  
  
Eli the baker took his cool time in getting back and it was all Alexis could do to keep   
Zico from bolting under the watchful eyes of the two policemen. Alexis held his hand and   
softly spoke to him in Greek and she could gradually feel the little boy relaxing again. It   
all ended when Officer Kelly and the baker arrived.  
  
"What is the meaning of this, Commissioner Scorpio?" came a booming heavily accented   
voice. A man, who vaguely resembled a swarthy Michelin Man with a thick black   
moustache, ambled through the door. "I have better things to do than to drop my work at   
the whim of the PCPD." He put his meaty hands to his hips and glared at the policemen.   
"The baklava will not make itself."  
  
Mac resisted the urge to smile. "I'm sorry for the interruption, Mr. Kippos. I wouldn't   
have called for you if it weren't important. You know Alexis Davis and her partner, Ric   
Lansing?" he inquired, motioning to them in the corner.  
  
As if for the first time seeing them, Eli turned to them. "I've seen you on the television,"   
was his only reply.   
  
From his narrowed eyes, however, and his Greek background, Alexis surmised he   
probably knew who she was because she was a Cassidine.   
  
Eli turned back to Mac. "You still haven't told me what this is about. Please tell me you   
didn't call me out of my bakery to meet a *Cassidine*!"  
  
Alexis barely resisted the urge to flinch. The apathy in the man's voice was more than   
evident. Not that she blamed him; the Cassidines were not exactly an endearing family.   
"He certainly wouldn't waste your time like that, sir," she explained. "We need your   
help." She laid her hands on Zico's narrow shoulders. "This little boy may have   
witnessed a crime and we'd like for him to issue a statement. Only problem is he doesn't   
speak English. That's where *you* come in. We'd like for you to act as an interpreter."  
  
"With a certain level of discretion, of course," interjected Ric.  
  
"That goes without saying. I would do it myself, of course, but you know the PCPD has   
to be by the book."  
  
Taggert's eyes narrowed. He had a feeling that he and his fellow officers had just been   
insulted.  
  
"Touché, Counselor," smirked Mac. "So will you do it?"  
  
Eli looked at the little boy sitting just beside him. He looked scared half to death but   
seemed to draw strength from the beautiful woman standing behind him. He couldn't   
understand this – didn't the boy know he could draw more comfort from a nest of vipers   
than a Cassidine? "Of course."  
  
"You know the drill," said Taggert, handing the burly man a stack of papers about   
confidentiality.  
  
Eli took the pen and scrawled his name assertively on the line. All those present did the   
same. Mac pointed out the seat beside Zico and Eli settled his bulk into it. Taggert   
crossed to the other side of the table beside his boss. Alexis and Ric sat on the other side   
of the little boy.   
  
"What's your name, boy?" asked Eli in Greek.  
  
Zico fairly quaked under the booming voice and he turned questioning eyes to Alexis.   
  
"Come now, boy, I won't bite."  
  
Zico's rounded amber eyes showed he didn't quite believe him.   
  
"Go on, Zico," she encouraged.   
  
"Zico Constantine," he replied in a tremulous voice.  
  
Eli nodded brusquely. Good sound Greek name. "My name is Eli Kippos."  
  
Zico wasn't sure quite what all this meant. Why was he here? Who were these other   
people? Did the bald headed man know his head reflected the light right into his eyes?   
Why did this man with the beetle eyebrows have to be so loud?  
  
"We ready?" asked Taggert, even as he set the recorder in the middle of the metal table   
between them all. "18th June, 2005, 10:35 a.m. Lieutenant Detective Marcus Taggert and   
Commissioner Mac Scorpio interviewing Zico Constantine in the presence of his   
attorneys Alexis Davis and Ricardo Corinthos-Lansing and interpreter Elijah Kippos."  
  
All the formalities dispensed with, he caught the little boy's eyes. "State your full name,   
age and date of birth."  
  
Eli relayed the request to Zico.  
  
There was a pause as Zico processed the request and his gaze flitted back to Alexis. She   
nodded and smiled. He turned to the other men. "My name is Zico Tomas Constantine. I   
am five years old. My birthday is May 16th 2000."  
  
"What are your parents' names?"  
  
As Eli relayed the question, Alexis could feel the tension causing him to tighten his grip   
on her hand.   
  
"Zico?"  
  
"My mama's name was Bianca… papa's name was Gregor."  
  
The mentioning of 'was' was very ominous indeed.   
  
"Where do you live?"  
  
His answer was automatic. "With Alexis and her family."  
  
Alexis smiled at his answer but Taggert frowned. "Before you came to America."  
  
"Balbos."  
  
Both Eli's and Alexis's eyebrows skyrocketed. Balbos was an island off the coast of the   
mainland of Greece. It was very near to the island on which Alexis had had the childhood   
from hell.  
  
"What are you doing in America?"  
  
Alexis held her breath. This was a question she had asked herself and had received no   
answer. She was beginning to wonder if what Jason suspected would come to be – would   
Zico talk to Taggert if he wouldn't even talk to *her*?  
  
Zico's eyes widened as Eli relayed the question. In fact, even a blind man could tell these   
questions made him uncomfortable and he was gripping her hand tight enough to crack   
some bones. Eli tried the question again and got no response.   
  
Taggert rephrased the question. "Did your parents bring you to America with them?"  
  
When Eli asked, Zico slowly shook his head and his bottom lip began to wobble visibly.  
  
"Where are your parents then?"  
  
Tears became to prick his eyelids and he whispered the word so softly, but its ominous   
meaning echoed around the room.  
  
Alexis gasped and Eli turned stricken eyes to the two policemen. "Dead…."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
There was going to be a riot on their hands if they didn't find this murderer fast. That   
much di Rossi had hinted at in the meeting. The PCPD had turned its beady eyes on to   
the other members of Port Charles's Underworld and so a certain level of discretion had   
needed to be undertaken – at the expense of more than one family's pockets. The   
message was clear – ship up or ship out.  
  
"Sonofabitch!" cursed Sonny as he settled back into the blush leather interior in the limo.  
  
It was a sentiment echoed entirely by Jason. He could understand the antsiness of the   
Families but di Rossi was one to take unfair advantage of a situation; he didn't trust him   
as far as he could throw him. He told his partner this.  
  
Sonny nodded in agreement. "He's trouble. As if we didn't have enough on our plates   
already. Watch our back where he's concerned."  
  
Jason nodded; he didn't have to be told twice.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Much to their surprise Taggert pressed the stop button on the recorder and allowed Alexis   
to comfort Zico. All men present, with the exception of Ric, were shocked at the ease   
with which she calmed the little boy. She didn't think twice about slipping to her knees in   
her $500 Armani skirt and clutching the little boy in her arms, crooning soft words of   
comfort in Greek as she rocked him to and fro.   
  
Finally, after about five minutes or so, Zico's sobs became soft whimpers and then ceased   
altogether. Alexis set him away from him and wiped the tears from his cherubic face,   
feeling the ache in her heart deepening as they continued to stare at each other.  
  
"Zico?" she asked softly. "How did your parents die?" she asked softly.  
  
Ever resourceful, Taggert switched on the recorder again and Eli quietly relayed her   
question in English.   
  
There were long moments of silence as Alexis and Zico stared at each other. Again, he   
was struck by how much she looked like his own mother. The large brown eyes that   
stared back at him were filled with such compassion and understanding and, dare he   
think, love. "Somebody killed them…." he whispered so softly, Alexis felt sure she was   
imagining things.   
  
"Who?" she asked, knowing that her voice had cracked at the question.  
  
"Three men. In black."  
  
"How did you get here?"  
  
"They brought me here on a boat that smelled like fish. They put me in a room with a   
window and I could see the sea. It was locked… I tried to get out, but I couldn't. They   
used to laugh at me…. Call me a baby when I cried for my mama."  
  
"Zico, how did you get away?"  
  
Zico took a deep breath. "One night they came for me when I was sleeping. They put me   
in a car. It was dark and I couldn't see anything. They stopped the car after a long time.   
The men started arguing, I couldn't understand what they were saying, but the one who   
was driving got out and slammed the door and the other man started saying bad words."  
  
"In Greek?"  
  
"Yes," Zico nodded. "I was pretending to be asleep. It must have worked because the   
man started muttering about how it was unfair that the other man got to go and fun and he   
had to baby-sit me. He left me in the car."  
  
"Just like that?" asked Alexis incredulously. **What a moron!** she couldn't help but   
add in her thoughts.   
  
"I peeked out the window to see if anyone was close by but when I tried to open the door,   
it was locked. My mama used to do this back home, but I knew that if I tried to get out   
from the front, I could, so I opened the door and I started to run."  
  
"When was this? Do you remember?"  
  
Zico shook his head.  
  
"Did it seem like a long time before Jason found you?"  
  
"Morgan!" Taggert broke in; he didn't understand what she was asking but he sure as hell   
had recognized Jason's name. When Eli relayed the question in English, he became even   
more curious. What did *he* have to do with this monkey business?  
  
Alexis shut up the tirade that was sure to follow with one withering look. "Did it seem   
like a long time?"  
  
Zico seemed to think hard. "I feel asleep. I think it was only a day."  
  
"You were hiding where Jason found you?"  
  
"No. I was closer to the water. I saw one of the men; he was looking for me and he had a   
gun. I ran away again and I hid in the garbage behind the restaurant."  
  
"Restaurant?" asked Mac.  
  
"Yeah, 'Louie's' the crime scene," Ric supplied helpfully, although he was thinking more   
along the lines that Zico's answer was a perfect opening for the question that was   
weighing most on their minds.  
  
"Zico… last night… what did you see?"  
  
Time seemed to stand still. Mac and Taggert were chomping at the bit, Eli was curious as   
to exactly what crime Zico had witnessed, Ric and Alexis were warring with the concern   
– more for Sonny's employees or for this little boy who so desperately needed protection.  
  
Zico actually started to tremble and he couldn't even seem to take comfort in the warmth   
of Alexis's hands cupping his shoulders.  
  
"Are you afraid?" she asked softly. Her heart started breaking when the little boy nodded.   
"It's ok, Zico. We're here to help you." As much as she would kick herself later, she   
pointed to Mac and Taggert. "These two men are the good guys. They are gonna catch   
the bad guys, but they need your help. It's ok. You're safe; you don't have to be afraid   
anymore. I'm here and I promise, I'll never let anything bad happen to you."  
  
"You promise?" he begged. He didn't know what he would do if she didn't.  
  
"I promise," she replied firmly.   
  
Zico sniffled. "It was dark when I woke up and I was so hungry…. I'd seen a boy come   
out the back door and throw away some scraps. There was a lot of food because the dogs   
would fight for them. I was creeping for the door when this man came into the alley. I   
thought it was one of the men who were looking for me and so I hid behind the cans. He   
was walking funny all over the place and he stopped by the wall and started to pee.  
  
"I was waiting for him to finish and then I saw… I saw a man creep out from the   
shadows… I saw something shiny and he grabbed the other man in the back and I saw his   
hand go like this… whoosh… and the man dropped to the ground and he ran away." He   
was whimpering by now and his teeth were starting to chatter for some unknown reason.  
  
"Why didn't you go for help?"   
  
"I was scared… I wanted to go home…. I just wanted to go home…" tears were once   
again streaming down his face and Alexis once again used her thumbs to wipe them   
away.   
  
"I'm sorry, Zico. What happened next?"  
  
"The door to the restaurant opened and the same boy came out with the garbage. He saw   
the man on the ground and he went to check it out. Then he started to scream and all   
these people started running to him. It was so loud, Alexis, and there were so many   
people…."  
  
"Why didn't you come out of your hiding-place, Zico?"  
  
"I didn't want The Man to find me…."  
  
"The Man, Zico? You mean the man who was looking for you?"  
  
"No," he whispered softly.   
  
"You mean the man that killed the other man?"  
  
Zico nodded his head.  
  
"Is that why you were scared when Jason found you? Is that why you fought him?"  
  
"Yes…."  
  
"Zico… did you see the man's face?"  
  
Zico's trembling began anew. His mind transported him to the night before when he had   
quaked in shock at what he had just seen. The man had pushed the other man's body to   
the ground and had stepped back from it. He looked around to see if the coast was clear   
and started to walk away. How was he to know that in that split second the neon sight   
across the street had flickered to life, his face would be imprinted into the brain of an   
innocent child who had just watched him commit a cold-blooded murder? It was only   
partial – only a profile view, in fact – but it had been enough. There would be no   
mistaking that hideous scar from his eye to his jaw. "Yes…."  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: Not much romance, I know, and you'll probably want to kill me after reading   
Courtney's role, but I promise, things will get better and start to come to a head. You   
won't believe what happens next. Please drop me a line to let me know what you thought.  
  
Cara 


	26. Chapter 26

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 26  
  
Disclaimer: See chapter one.  
  
A/N: Thank you for last chapters comments; I really appreciated them; it's nice to know   
my sporadic updating isn't making me lose too many of you. As for the events of last   
chapter, you all should know me well enough to know things will only get better; Liason   
fans don't worry, this story is for you.  
  
To remember: Set in 2005, Kristina will be three at the end of the year, so she's not much   
of a baby; series began shortly after the Liason breakup before Liz and Ric slept together   
or even before it was revealed he was Sonny's brother, so all the drama about the panic   
room and everything else didn't happen.  
  
BTW: Carly and Michael have not disappeared from PC; they're lying low till the next   
installment.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Lay back, Courtney," Dr. Meadows gently directed as she checked her equipment.  
  
Courtney did as she was told, the crinkling sounds of her paper gown against the paper   
sheet and her head meeting the pillow with a decided crunch racked her nerves as she   
lifted her feet into those awful looking stirrups. She turned her head away from the doctor   
and tried to close her ears to the electrical beeping of the machinery.  
  
Try as she might, she could not help but drift back to the conversation of less than half an   
hour ago.  
  
*** Flashback***  
  
Dr. Meadows' eyes widened at the blonde's admission. "Really?" After the near hysteria   
of believing she could not conceive, the younger woman's lack of enthusiasm was a little   
strange.  
  
"I've skipped my period…" Courtney clarified, shivering as she thought back to not so   
long ago when AJ, her own husband, had been stalking. "It's happened before because of   
stress so, I didn't think anything of it. But it's been almost two weeks and I haven't been   
able to keep anything down these past mornings…."  
  
"I see. Well, you have a few options. I can do a urine sample… have you taken a home   
pregnancy test?"  
  
Courtney coloured; she had wanted to but had never had the nerve to pick one up from   
the drug store for fear the news would somehow get back to her omnipotent older brother   
or his equally omnipotent partner. "No," she finally admitted.  
  
"Well, I can do it right now and have the results back by the end of the day, but I can also   
examine you right now if that's not a problem."  
  
"Sure," Courtney nodded.   
  
***Present***  
  
"Are you ready?" came Dr. Meadows' voice above her right ear.  
  
Courtney turned her head and looked at the smiling physician, each second that ticked by   
sinking her heart further and further. "Yes."  
  
"Try to sit still. This might be a little uncomfortable."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
"I got your message," Delano announced over the telephone, sounding very pleased with   
himself. "And I also happened to get a glimpse of The Chronicle. Remind me to send   
them a nice big fat check come Christmas."  
  
"Will do," replied Lyle, marveling at his mood.  
  
"And, of course, I won't forget Yates. The old boy's still got it." Delano slipped naked   
from his bed, listening to make sure the blonde from last night, Sharon Something-or-the-  
other, was still in the shower. He padded over to the huge window showing the famous   
New York skyline, the only ones seeing his morning wood the buildings and the birds.  
  
"Things are moving right along," he continued.  
  
"Yeah," Lyle replied, though he didn't know the full extent of his boss's plan.  
  
"Has there been any word from the Corinthos camp?"  
  
"Nope, but I know they're snooping."  
  
"Be careful," Delano warned. "I don't intend to make the same mistakes my brother did."  
  
The shower stopped running and Delano knew he had to wrap the call up quickly. "Have   
you found the boys?" he asked, referring to those members of Taggliatti's camp who   
were especially off the books, the ones that no one, except Joseph, Scaduto, Lyle (who   
had been a snoopy little caretaker and now Delano, had known about.  
  
"I found nine -"  
  
"That's fine," Delano broke in. "Have them in place by tomorrow." The bathroom door   
opened and Sharon came out, wrapping a towel around her glistening body. "It's time for   
a little visit to Port Chuck," he replied before immediately terminating the call. He turned   
to the half naked woman who had wrapped herself around him. In the light of day   
without her makeup or skimpy clothing, she didn't hold a candle to her.  
  
Hell… he didn't even like blondes. Meaning, this one was perfect to make him forget.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The moment Eli recited Zico's words Mac sprang into action. He fished the cellphone   
from his pocket. Within minutes ADA Jensen was sure to come striding through the door.   
The next was to a phone outside in the bullpen and he snapped an order for the book of   
mugshots, which appeared at the door, thrust through by the trembling hand of Officer   
Kelly.  
  
Alexis, approving off the hasty orders, stroked the little boy's unruly black hair, calming   
him further. "Do you think you can describe him for me, Zico?"  
  
"Yes," he whispered, relishing the warm gentleness of her touch.   
  
"This book," Alexis began, taking it from the table, "has lots of pictures of bad guys. Can   
you go through this with me and see if we see that bad man?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
That had been fifteen minutes ago. Dara had rushed in like a hurricane, not even taking   
the time for introductions or hellos. There was no mistaking the hope that rushed to her   
face when Mac explained in terse tones what was going on.  
  
They all turned to the trio – Ric, Alexis and Zico – riffling through the thick book looking   
for the man.  
  
Suddenly, Zico paused and pointed to a man with a hideous scar on the left side of his   
face. Alexis spoke quickly.  
  
"Are you sure?" Eli translated without having to be asked.  
  
Taggert held his breath.   
  
God they needed this break!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"You made the papers," Lyle said, tossing the paper onto the rickety table and trying not   
to choke from the noxious cloud of cigarette smoke that curled above Yates's thinning   
hair.  
  
Yates showed a glimmer of uncharacteristic pride at the words of the reporter. He felt it   
had been a job well done. "You spoke to Delano?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And?" he prompted. "No more jumping the gun?" he asked, referring to Rhys's   
premature murder.  
  
"Not that I know of," Lyle replied.   
  
"When do I get my money?" Yates asked reaching for another cigarette and lighting the   
butt with the almost smoldering one he'd just taken from his mouth. "I got bills to pay."  
  
For one insane reason, Lyle was struck with the irony of Yates's words – the man was   
speaking of what he'd just done as if he'd mowed a lawn or moved a bed instead of   
murdering a man in cold blood. "You'll get it," he replied, wondering not for the first   
time why he'd had to spur Delano Taggliatti into the insanity of this game. "Listen,   
Delano's coming to PC," he announced.  
  
Yates paused mid-drag, almost choking on the smoke. With the instincts that had saved   
him on more than one occasion in the Vietcong, he knew this visit would spell disaster.   
He'd known Delano Taggliatti his entire life, had been a part of the organization when his   
father was alive and even when he'd died leaving Joseph as head of the family. He'd seen   
him grow from a boy to a teenager and had been the one to take him out of the country   
when he'd gotten out of control.  
  
Delano might appear to be cool and calculating to Lyle. He was. Yates would never   
underestimate the depravity of the man and, since he technically was head of whatever   
was untouched of the Taggliatti fortune; he'd followed his orders without question. But   
his coming here to Port Charles was a step up in a strange game that he didn't know the   
rules of. And, if Delano Taggliatti was coming here to tangle even more with the   
Corinthos Family, more than likely he'd find himself meeting the same fate of his brother   
– face down in the Port Charles River.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
Courtney tried to ignore the fact that there was a woman probing between her legs and   
schooled her thoughts on everything but the present and the fact that her love life was   
disaster.   
  
But it was impossible.  
  
How could she not think about those nights of waking up to find Jason imbedded in her,   
desperately making love to her?  
  
What a fool she'd been.  
  
How was she ever to forget that look on his face when he stepped into their apartment   
that day? It had been written all over his face – he'd been with *her*. Thinking about the   
subsequent blowup, tears started burning her eyes.  
  
"Well, everything seems ok," Dr. Meadows announced, breaking Courtney from her   
thoughts as she snapped off her gloves. "I'll get those results to you by this evening. Shall   
I call you or will you come back for them."  
  
"I'd prefer for you to call me," Courtney said, wondering if the news that she was at the   
hospital had reached her brother's ears. "I'll be at work, so you can call Kelly's."  
  
"Will do," the doctor replied with a smile. She paused, watching as Courtney sat up and   
slipped off the table. "Ms. Matthews?" she asked softly, "is everything all right?"  
  
"Of course," Courtney responded with a tremulous smile.  
  
**My life's only falling apart before me.**  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Well?" Taggert prompted, looking anxiously at the little boy. He wasn't the only one.  
  
"He says it looks like the man. But it can't be possible. It says here he's been incarcerated   
for the last fifteen years. He's eligible for parole in five," she replied, reading the man's   
script. She was unable to keep the disappointment from her voice.   
  
Taggert wasn't so skilled at hiding his emotions. "Shit," he muttered.  
  
Even Eli looked like a deflated balloon.  
  
"I think it might be easier if we used a sketch artist instead," Ric supplied. "There's no   
guarantee that whoever is committing the murders has been convicted or even been   
booked before."  
  
"You're right, Ric," Dara reluctantly admitted.   
  
"I'm on it," Mac replied. He crossed to the door and stuck his head out to the bullpen.   
"Lucky?" he called out. "Get Valcor for me," he ordered, referring to the Department's   
best and most skilled sketch artist.  
  
"Alexis, can I see you outside for a minute?" Dara asked.  
  
"Of course." Promising Zico she'd be right back, she followed her colleague outside to a   
fairly secluded corner of the bullpen.   
  
"Where did you find this little boy?" Dara asked, launching right in.  
  
"Certainly not beating around the bush are we, Dara?" Alexis quipped, looking at the   
woman who she'd squared off against on more than one occasion.   
  
"Seriously. As much as I want to find who's murdering these men, this seems mighty   
coincidental. That a little boy would just so suddenly show up at your doorstep –"  
  
"He didn't show up at my doorstep, Dara, Jason brought him to me."  
  
"And *that's* supposed to make me feel better?"  
  
"Listen, I never took you for one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Dara. I can understand   
you're skeptical about this entire situation, but I believe what Zico says. You didn't see   
him when he was brought to me. He was so small and so scared. He's been through   
enough – he doesn't need people doubting him, least of all the people I promised would   
help protect him."  
  
Dara barely resisted the urge to pout. Yet again Alexis Davis had made her feel like a   
child. She sought to hide her indignation with logic. "I suppose you'll want his name   
sealed from the records."  
  
"That goes without saying. I'd also like –" she paused, "I'd also like for you to put in a   
good word with DCFS."  
  
Dara lifted a brow. This would be interesting.  
  
"Zico trusts me. Plus there is the fact that no one else, well besides Eli the baker, can   
understand him. It would be best if he stayed with me."  
  
"You live with a mobster."  
  
"Need I remind you those are baseless accusations?" Alexis lied flawlessly.   
  
That damned brow of Dara's lifted again. "Would you rather he go to foster care, where   
he knows and can understand no one?" Alexis asked, preying on Dara's sympathy.  
  
"He'll be in just as much danger as he was before. I agree with you when you say there's   
a pattern to blatant to ignore, Alexis. You're asking me to put this child's life right in the   
path of the oncoming car."  
  
"He'll be protected." Dara didn't seem to want budge. Alexis reached out for her arm.   
"Please. You don't understand… Zico needs me."  
  
For those few seconds, two pairs of dark eyes remained locked on each other. Alexis's   
urging Dara to accept, Dara's filled with confusion. Finally, she stepped back. "It's not   
up to me anyways, Alexis, you know that. But… I'll talk to DCFS on your behalf."  
  
Alexis expelled a breath of relief. "Thank you," she replied sincerely.  
  
Dara was stunned as she made her way back into the interrogation room. Had Alexis just   
*not* been sarcastic towards her?  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The music was a little more mellow – Dido's 'White Flag' – and, as she painted, she   
couldn't help but think how much she'd identified with this song up until a few short   
days ago.  
  
Elizabeth sat back on her stool, rolling the kinks in her neck before cocking an eye on the   
painting. It was all pink and white and red – she felt deliriously happy. She didn't need to   
wonder why. The lingering scent of leather and male in the small room was all the   
answer she needed.  
  
As her mind started to wander about that certain dirty-blonde biker, her cellphone chose   
that moment to ring. She lowered the radio and reached for the phone. "Hello?" she   
asked, without checking the caller-ID.  
  
"Elizabeth," came tiny voice through the static.  
  
She could barely hear. "Hello? Can you hear me? Hello?"  
  
"Eliza… it's me… -iel!"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Daniel!"  
  
"Daniel? Daniel, where are you?" Elizabeth asked. A feeling of guilt threatened to gnaw   
the insides of her stomach.  
  
"I'm --- the expressway. About twenty miles --- Port Charles."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"Don't sound so eager to see me," Daniel said sarcastically. "I'm just check in --- your   
work. --- you forgotten you --- order for Mr. Johansen?"  
  
"No, of course not. It's just I thought I was to call *you*."  
  
"-ey, what's that? Listen, Eli—beth, I can't hear you. Can --- you meet me--- Port ---   
Hotel --- an hour?"  
  
Before she could reply, the call was terminated.   
  
Meet him at the PC Hotel in an hour? Did she have a choice?  
  
An hour and fifteen minutes later, Elizabeth paused behind the host as he pinpointed   
Daniel in the crowded dining room. In those few seconds it took to pick him out she   
couldn't help but admit: Damn, he looked good!  
  
And he did.  
  
Not that she'd expected for his appearance to change drastically since she'd left New   
York City.  
  
As usual he was clad in a designer suit – midnight-blue Armani – a crisp white shirt and   
light blue silk tie and his crow's feather hair was still too rakish to be considered   
gentlemanly.   
  
Schooling her features to a mask of indifference, she made her way over to the table,   
knowing Francis had taken a seat at the bar.  
  
Noticing her approach he took another sip of his Scotch and got to his feet. He smiled   
politely and hoped it didn't reach his eyes.  
  
At the guilt that leapt into her blue orbs he knew he had failed.  
  
Damn it!  
  
Why couldn't he hate her?  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
(noon)  
  
It wasn't often that he did this. But, he had to admit, he had a hidden agenda. Sonny   
pushed through the door to Kelly's, Johnny right behind him, and his eyes immediately   
went to the blonde pouring coffee at the counter.  
  
Courtney looked up at the sound of the bell and was instantly flustered when she   
recognized her brother was heading towards her.  
  
"Miss… the coffee."  
  
"Oh, shoot, sorry," Courtney apologized, mopping up the sodden mess of the spilt coffee.   
She quickly turned over another cup and refilled it, trying to still her hand and act   
*normal* as her brother took a seat at the counter and flipped over his cup.  
  
Sonny hardly ever went to Kelly's and certainly never for coffee, so there was no   
mistaking his intentions as he sat waiting for her at the counter. There was no use   
avoiding it.  
  
"Hey," he said softly, reaching for her hand.  
  
She looked up into the sympathetic brown eyes of her brother and willed her anger to the   
surface, but it didn't come. Instead, the tears brimmed and eventually spilt over and   
Sonny drew her into his arms, the counter separating them, not caring who saw the   
Godfather of Port Charles giving comfort.  
  
From the threshold of the kitchen, Penny paused with her order in her hands as she took   
in the scene before her. "What's wrong with Courtney?"  
  
Tammy, who'd been in the loop but kept her mouth shut, dropped the bombshell. "She   
and Jason broke up. He's back with Elizabeth."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
PCPD (same time)  
  
Iris Valcor had been a sketch artist with the PCPD for almost twenty years and had drawn   
more than her share of criminals – all with the help of an adult. Rendering a sketch with a   
five-year-old who didn't speak English was more than a challenge.   
  
But, somehow, she'd done it. it didn't take a genius to see the fear that crept into the boy   
as he looked at the picture that, unknowns to them all, was an uncanny resemblance to the   
murderer, Edward Yates.  
  
As Mac handed the sketch to Lucky to mass circulate, Officer Cross asked, "What d'you   
got there, Spencer?"  
  
"Sketch for Mac. Didn't say for what."  
  
Cross, who'd been none too pleased with the presence of the Corinthos mouthpieces minus   
their clients at the Headquarters all day said, "Lemme see that?"  
  
"Sure," Lucky replied, showing him the picture.  
  
Cross stared at the picture. A feeling of recognition rippled over him but would not settle.   
  
Where had he seen that man before?  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: Well? Read and Review, please; you know I live for those things. 


	27. Chapter 27

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' 2: Chapter 27  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: First, I must apologise for the abominable amount of time it took to get this chapter   
out. Life has been a bitch and, needless to say, the show hasn't been that wonderful or   
helpful in the least, so I've had major writer's block (sigh). Thank you for last chapter's   
comments; there are all so dear to me and it's always nice to see some new names pop up   
in my email as well as the ones that have been here from the beginning – a big fat   
'Mwahh' to you all. Anyways, thanks to LiasonFan for being my muse and my sounding   
block for this story as well as the other stories I've got on my plate; don't know what I   
would do without your help sometimes, girl. Well, this chapter was hard enough to write;   
don't kill me if it sucks, but hopefully you'll enjoy it.  
  
Port Charles Grille (lunchtime)  
  
Elizabeth tremulously returned her promoter's smile as she stopped by their table.  
  
"You look good," Daniel said against his will.  
  
"Thank you," replied a startled Elizabeth.   
  
Daniel bit the inside of his cheek, instantly regretting his words even more. Ever the   
gentleman, he rounded the small table and pulled out Elizabeth's chair for her.   
  
True to the reputation of impeccable service, a waiter appeared. "Would like anything to   
drink?" he asked politely.  
  
"Perrier," she replied, though she certainly could do with a nice stiff shot of whisky to   
help her get through this meeting.  
  
"Very well. And for you, sir?" he asked. "Another?" As Daniel nodded, the waiter smiled   
politely before presenting them with their menus. Liz and Daniel both took advantage of   
"scanning" the menu to school their thoughts; both of them were thinking about the   
awkwardness of the situation.  
  
Finally, Daniel couldn't stand the silence between them. "How's the painting coming   
along?"  
  
Elizabeth resisted the urge to heave a sigh of relief that she hadn't had to be the   
icebreaker. "Fine. I started on two others," she of course neglected to inform him that one   
of those had been a portrait of Jason. "I was working on one for Mr. Johansen when you   
called."  
  
"He's very anxious to get these paintings. He's shown a remarkable level of interest in   
you."  
  
Elizabeth couldn't have prevented the smile that blazed across her face even if she'd   
wanted to. "_Already_?" she asked incredulously? "I haven't even been exhibited for a full   
month. Promoted for even less time."  
  
Daniel felt a tug on his heartstrings as he looked at her. "What can I say?" he asked   
softly. "The man has great taste."  
  
All the good humor fell from her face; she recognized that look. It was longing. Hadn't   
she seen it plastered on her face enough before she'd reunited with Jason?  
  
Just then, the waiter returned with their drinks. "Perrier for the lady; Scotch for the   
gentleman." The conversation halted as he set the water before Liz and the tumbler of   
whisky before Daniel and he now looked at them expectedly. "Are you ready to order?"  
  
Grateful for the intervention Liz replied, "Chicken Caesar salad, please."  
  
The waiter accepted the menu. "And for you, sir?"  
  
"Steak and potato; medium."  
  
"Very good."  
  
Elizabeth wished the waiter could stay there indefinitely but the efficient little bugger   
swept off to take their orders to the kitchen. She turned to Daniel, who cleared his throat   
before saying, "It's fair to say Mr. Johansen is more than just interested. He's hinted to   
Connie and I that he'd like to be your benefactor."  
  
Liz choked on a sip of her sparking water. "You're shittin' me, right?"  
  
Daniel smiled, remembering when she'd first said the same thing to him not so long ago.   
"I shit you not."  
  
"I don't know what to say to that…." She'd never spoken to or even seen the man and he   
wanted to help finance her art career based on one single art show?  
  
"You say, 'I'll have to speak with my lawyer.'"  
  
Confusion marred Elizabeth's features. "What? Why?"  
  
Elizabeth was relieved the conversation had strayed from personal topics. "Kit Johansen   
taking you on as a beneficiary is a very serious matter. He's a highly respected collector   
and he's never even hinted about doing this sort of thing before, so you're very lucky,   
Elizabeth. As your dealer and promoter, I say 'go for it' but you might want to enlist the   
help of a lawyer to get you out of any sticky situations, such as him chopping down the   
money tree if you don't adhere to the hundreds of clauses I'm sure his lawyers will have   
in any contract he makes you sign."  
  
Liz's frown deepened. "Oh." _Who knew this would get so complicated?  
_  
The rest of their lunch passed quite pleasantly. Their meals came and throughout the   
delicious food their conversation was set firmly away from all matters personal.  
  
Halfway through their espresso Elizabeth's cellphone rang. She lifted a finger to excuse   
herself and picked up the tiny mobile from her bag. "Hello?"  
  
It was Alexis, standing with Zico outside the PCPD. "Hey, it's me."  
  
_It's my mother_, she mouthed to Daniel. "Hi."  
  
"Feel for lunch?" her mother asked. "Ric went back to the office to finish some reports   
and I'm heading home; figured I'd treat the kids."  
  
"Sorry, too late." She wanted to ask how Zico's interview had gone, but she knew the   
entire matter deserved a certain level of discretion.  
  
"What?" asked Alexis, mischievously. "Jason comes home in the middle of the day   
now?"  
  
"No…" she said exasperatedly. "I'm at the Grille already; I'm having lunch with Daniel."  
  
"_Daniel_?" asked Alexis incredulously, as she took Zico's hand and headed for the   
Beemer. "What's he doing in Port Charles?"  
  
"Progress report."  
  
"Oh." Alexis wanted to say so much more – she knew Elizabeth had had more than just a   
business relationship; how much more, was uncertain, but she knew it – but she didn't.   
"Ok. Well, I'll talk to you later. See you for dinner tonight?" she asked as she reached the   
car and unlocked it. She settled Zico in the backseat and buckled him in with a smile,   
tugging his baseball cap more firmly over his eyes.  
  
Back at the Grille, Liz hedged. "Oh, I don't know…"  
  
"Plans?" her mother asked knowingly.   
  
Their relationship may be unorthodox to say the least, but a girl had t draw the line   
somewhere; there was no way she was going to say anything about her and Jason's love-  
life, especially not with her former lover sitting across the table from her. "Maybe…" she   
replied vaguely.   
  
"Hmmm…."   
  
Elizabeth could picture in her mind the smirk that went along with that statement.   
  
"Ok," Alexis conceded as she slid into the driver's seat. "Talk to you later."  
  
"Bye."  
  
Alexis terminated the call and, using her rearview mirror, asked Zico in Greek,   
"Hungry?" He flashed that adorable grin of his and Alexis rolled her eyes playfully.   
"Stupid question, I know. You're probably _always_ hungry."  
  
Zico giggled, for the moment his mind off his harrowing interview that morning. Alexis   
pulled into traffic, not mindful of the black sedan that pulled out to follow her. Adam,   
who'd been about to pull out before being cut off noticed how the car stuck close to them   
did. He fished out his phone and dialed Jason. "Yeah, it's Adam. Ms. Davis and the kid   
are being followed."  
  
Jason halted on his way through the park to get back to Elizabeth's studio. "_Shit_. Call   
Marco to cover them, but I want you to stay behind whoever is following them."  
  
"Will do. What to do when I catch up?" asked Adam, keeping a mindful eye on the sedan   
as it stopped just two cars behind the silver BMW at a set of stoplights; he hoped the   
people weren't planning on doing anything stupid.  
  
"Call me. I want to know who's so interested in Zico and why."  
  
As Jason terminated the call, Adam swallowed convulsively. It wasn't going to be a very   
pretty picture when he was finished, that much he was certain of.   
  
Back at the Grille, Liz closed her cellphone and looked apologetically at Daniel, who was   
watching her intently. "I'm sorry about that."  
  
"No problem." They fell silent and Liz sipped her now cold espresso. "Listen, I should be   
going. I'm staying in Port Charles for the night. But I'll be heading back to the City   
tomorrow morning. Virginie has a _crisis_," he stated long-sufferingly. In their short time   
together Liz had come to know the French-Canadian had a flair for the dramatic.   
  
"My sympathy," Liz said laughingly.   
  
"Thanks." He got to his feet and actually bit his lip a little before his black eyes found   
hers. "Are you happy, Elizabeth?"  
  
Elizabeth certainly had not been expecting this question but she answered him truthfully,   
"Yes, I am."  
  
He nodded briskly, doing a good job of hiding his emotions. "I'll call you if Johansen sets   
up anything concrete."  
  
"Thank you, Daniel."  
  
He took his leave, walking briskly through the crowded restaurant, nodding at Francis   
who'd been watching them from the bar while munching on fries and a coke. When he   
rounded the corner, he quickly doubled back and watched Elizabeth from the shadows in   
the corner as she seemed to sag with relief that he was gone, before straightening her   
shoulders and setting her things in order. He knew that mask of indifference that she had   
perfected had dropped back onto her face. For the first time when looking at her, he felt a   
burning anger take root in his heart.   
  
She was _happy_? Too bad he _wasn't._

__  
Aware she was crying all over her brother at work, Courtney pulled away, her face red,   
not just from the tears but from the embarrassment of letting other people see her in this   
moment of weakness. As she pulled away, Sonny's eyes were filled a sense of pity and   
this fueled her temper and gave her strength. At the sight of her flashing blue eyes, Sonny   
smirked inwardly. Courtney was a strong woman, he'd have to give her that at least.   
  
"You didn't have to feel the need to come down here and comfort me. I'm fine."  
  
Sonny arched a silky black brow. "Then why haven't you been to work since we got back   
from New York City?"  
  
"Did Bobbie tell you that?"  
  
"No. Jason did."  
  
Courtney's lip curled and her eyes narrowed, although inside she felt like dying at the   
mere mention of her former fianc's name. "What else did he tell you?" she asked   
bitterly.   
  
Sonny didn't reply immediately. Instead, his mind took him back to his conversation with   
Jason as Johnny had driven them back to their warehouse after their meeting with the   
Five Families.   
  
Flashback:  
  
_There was going to be a riot on their hands if they didn't find this murderer fast. That   
much di Rossi had hinted at in the meeting. The PCPD had turned its beady eyes on to   
the other members of Port Charles's Underworld and so a certain level of discretion had   
needed to be undertaken – at the expense of more than one family's pockets. The message   
was clear – ship up or ship out.  
  
"_Sonofabitch_!" cursed Sonny as he settled back into the blush leather interior in the limo.  
  
It was a sentiment echoed entirely by Jason. He could understand the antsiness of the   
Families but di Rossi was one to take unfair advantage of a situation; he didn't trust him   
as far as he could throw him. He told his partner this.  
  
Sonny nodded in agreement. "He's trouble. As if we didn't have enough on our plates   
already. Watch our back where he's concerned."  
  
Jason nodded; he didn't have to be told twice.  
  
The two partners fell silent. Sonny stared moodily out of the window and Jason mentally   
counted down in his head, waiting for his friend to start his questioning. He'd barely   
made it to eighty-five counting backwards from one hundred when he felt Sonny's dark   
eyes on his profile. He turned his head and was surprised to find he had trouble holding   
his friend's unwavering gaze. "When?" it was uttered quietly but it was a loaded   
question.   
  
He felt as awkward as a teenaged boy and he didn't even pretend to not know what   
'when' Sonny was referring to. "The day after the showing."  
  
Sonny closed his eyes. He'd never forget that night. Silverman had been killed that night,   
but it was the night he could tell his daughter had decided to let sleeping dogs lie, the   
night he realized that his bestfriend was still in love with his daughter. "I hadn't even   
known you'd spoken to her that night."  
  
"Yeah, we spoke." They'd done a lot more than just speak. She'd kissed him; for the first   
time in almost two years he'd tasted her again.  
  
"Is that where you were when we were trying to find you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Sonny heaved a heavy sigh. He was a man caught in the middle. On one hand, as a father   
and a bestfriend, he was happy to see that special sparkle in Elizabeth's eyes and happy   
to see this newly relaxed Jason; as a brother, his heart broke for Courtney and he even felt   
a little anger on her behalf knowing the pain she must be in. "What about Courtney?"  
  
He didn't miss the way Jason clenched his jaw and looked away. "She threw the ring at   
me."  
  
Sonny cursed his stupidity. So that was were the scratch on his cheek had come from! He   
almost chuckled; he could picture his sister hurling it at him, though; he'd played touch   
football with her, he knew she packed one helluva punch, Jason had helped her perfect it.   
Too bad it had come back to haunt him.   
  
"I'm sorry I hurt your sister, Sonny. But I love Elizabeth. I was tired of denying how I   
feel; of seeing her hurt," he said softly, hoping his friend would understand. "I was sick   
of the lying… we'd hurt each other so much over the past two years and we couldn't   
stand it. I'm sick and tired of being an idiot, Sonny, of sacrificing everything so other   
people could be happy. Don't I deserve to be happy? Don't I deserve to be loved?"  
  
Alexis's words came back to him. "_Everybody deserves to be loved, Sonny. Even you_."   
Even Jason. "Of course you deserve to be happy; to be loved."  
  
"Then give me your blessing."  
  
"You're asking my permission?"  
  
"Elizabeth isn't a child, Sonny, nor is she a possession. I just want to know that you   
won't stand in our way. I promised Elizabeth no more lies. I can't do that if you expect   
me to keep back part of myself," he said pointedly, obviously referring to when he'd had   
Jason lie about his 'death'.  
  
"It'll be dangerous," he couldn't help but say.  
  
"It's already dangerous. She's your daughter."  
  
Sonny said nothing for a while. Finally his dark eyes gripped his friend's blue ones. "If   
you hurt her again, Jason, I swear I'll _kill _you."  
  
Jason nodded before replying, "If I hurt her again, I'll kill myself."  
  
Sonny nodded grudgingly and Jason knew that somewhere inside, his friend approved.   
He already knew Alexis approved; she was a useful ally.   
  
As though the thought suddenly occurred Sonny turned to his friend and asked, "Where   
are you staying?"  
  
"Elizabeth's studio."  
  
Sonny chuckled knowing that Jason must not have been too comfortable. After all, the   
sum total of furniture in his daughter's cramped studio consisted of a rickety metal shelf,   
two bar stools, a lumpy old couch and a cot with an even lumpier mattress. He sobered,   
"Why don't you move back into PH2? It's a helluva lot more comfortable. You don't   
look like you're getting too much sleep."  
  
Jason nodded his head, saying he'd talk to Liz about it but thinking, how was he to tell   
his friend he wasn't getting enough sleep at night because his firecracker of a daughter   
was insatiable?  
_  
Present:  
  
"The engagement's off, obviously."  
  
"_Obviously_," Courtney replied thinking back to when she'd thrown her ring at him and it   
had caught his cheek. It had left a little scratch; it probably wasn't even visible.   
  
Sonny touched his sister's hand, willing her to look at him, hoping that she could see that   
he knew was bravado.  
  
Courtney wiped the last traces of tears from her face and said softly, "It's my fault,   
Sonny."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I deluded myself. Maybe in the beginning I didn't but I knew he still loved her. Oh,   
maybe he did love me for a while… he told me so… but never like he loved… _loves_   
her."  
  
"What'll you do now?"  
  
Courtney lifted her sky-blue eyes to meet her brother's curious dark brown orbs. She   
thought about the life that could quite possibly be growing in her belly. "I don't know,   
Sonny. I just know it hurts so bad… I wish I were dead."

Adam had let Marco take over covering Alexis's car, stealthily slipping in front of the   
sedan at a junction, letting Adam focus solely on the car and it's occupants. The windows   
are lightly tinted and he could make out one figure in the car. He felt only a little relieved.   
He assumed the man knew Alexis was obviously guarded, although she drove her own   
vehicle. He hoped the man wouldn't get over ambitious and try to dispatch the future   
Mrs. Corinthos and the little boy. The man seemed to be on reconnaissance; simply   
following them. Well, not for long.   
  
Alexis whipped the Beemer down the ramp that led into the basement garage of   
Harborview Towers and Marco followed in the midnight blue SUV. As expected, the   
man in the sedan pulled into a spot where he had a perfect view of anyone entering or   
leaving the building, either by foot or vehicle. Adam drove past him and parked further   
up the street where the man couldn't see him; he would be paying too much attention to   
the building anyways. He exited the car and ducked into a little restaurant. The manager   
started shouting at him when he just walked in the kitchen, but they recognized him as   
one of Sonny's guards and wisely left him alone. Adam hurried along the back alleys,   
loading his gun, until he emerged about fifty yards behind the car. The man's windows   
were up and for a moment, it looked as though no one was in the car. He saw a flutter of   
movement from the car and stepped back into the shadow of the alley as the man opened   
the car and got out. Adam surveyed his quarry, the man was about six feet tall and   
muscled, with dark hair and eyes. He was dressed in jeans and sunglasses, looking for all   
the world like a normal person out doing afternoon errands. Adam wasn't fooled in the   
least; he noted how the man's eyes hadn't left the building. For all his stature, the man   
wasn't a very good guard; he hadn't checked his surroundings once since he'd gotten out   
of the car.   
  
Adam decided he'd had enough of waiting. He was just about to make his move when he   
spied Jason coming down the street towards the man who still paid no attention. He   
caught his boss's eye and stepped from the alley and headed toward the car. Jason walked   
between the sedan and a flashy red Miata as if to cross the street but at the last instant   
wheeled to the man and quick as a flash punched the man in the side. The man wheezed   
instantly, the breath knocked from his body. Jason propped the body up and Adam shot   
him with the tranquiliser. As if nothing had happened Jason felt for the back door handle   
with his hand and pushed the man in the back seat before jumping behind the wheel.   
Adam slid into the passenger seat and they drove off.   
  
From Adam driving past to Jason driving away, it had lasted all of three minutes.Diana, Kristina's day nanny (and Leticia's younger sister), looked up as the door swung   
open and Alexis and Zico walked in. Krissy, who'd been doing a puzzle on the floor with   
her looked up. "Mama!" she squealed and bounded over to her mother.   
  
Alexis bent and scooped up her daughter. "Hey sweetie, I _missed_ you!"  
  
"I missed you, too, Mama!"  
  
Zico smiled shyly at Diana and she returned his smile, already enchanted by the little   
boy.   
  
"How would you like a picnic?" she asked her daughter in Greek. "Huh? A picnic,   
Krissy," she repeated in English for both Diana and Krissy whose Greek wasn't perfect.   
  
"A picnic? In the park?"  
  
"Well…" said Alexis, knowing a picnic in the park was far too risky. "We can have   
picnic right here, can't we?"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"And Papa isn't here so we can have pizza or hamburgers and ice-cream."  
  
Kristina's big eyes widened further. "_Ice-cream_?" she echoed wondrously.  
  
"Ice-cream?" Zico smiled. That was one English word he already knew and loved. "I like   
ice-cream," he said to Alexis in Greek.  
  
Alexis grinned and ruffled his silky black hair. "I bet you do!"  
  
That was how Sonny found them an hour later when Johnny opened the door to the PH   
and Marco couldn't keep his smile of his face wondering how the boss would we react if   
he knew the junk the children and his fiancée were eating. Alexis was sprawled on her   
stomach on the floor in jeans and tank top with spaghetti straps. Zico was next to her and   
Kristina was perched in Diana's lap. They all clutched ice-cream cones – Kristina was   
wearing most of hers as was Zico – and they all looked up at him guiltily from their game   
of Candyland on the floor.   
  
Sonny tried to looked exasperated, even annoyed, as he shut the door but failed miserably   
as a chocolate covered Kristina smiled and said, "Ice-cream, Papa?" He laughed and   
chucked off his jacket. "Why not, _corazon_?" He sank to his knees and, not caring they   
weren't alone, pulled Alexis in for a kiss. Swirling his tongue around the sweet chocolate   
and that taste that was uniquely Alexis. When he pulled away Zico and Kristina were   
making gagging noises and Diana had politely dropped her eyes to the boardgame.   
  
Sonny licked his lips and Alexis blushed, her eyes darkening in desire. "I _like_ ice-cream,"   
he announced. When everyone else turned back to the game he leaned forward and   
whispered, "But I much prefer _Alexis_."  
  
Her blush deepened and Sonny laughed. Somebody was gonna get lucky tonight!When the sedative wore off and his eyes opened, the man realized he had no idea where   
he was. He racked his brain and blanched as he realized the Corinthos' must have   
realized the woman and child were being followed, had caught him and brought him here.   
  
"You _finally_ decided to wake up."  
  
He turned his head and found himself looking into a pair of cold blue eyes. Almost as   
cold as hers. And that was saying something. He said nothing.   
  
"Who are you?" At the man's silence Jason frowned. The man's ability to keep quiet   
obviously was much better than his ability to watch without being watched. "My name is   
Jason Morgan. Do you know who I am?"  
  
The man still said nothing.   
  
Jason tried another tactic. "Why were you following Alexis?"  
  
_Alexis_? He knew no such woman. He'd been ordered to follow the little mouse, the   
Cassidine bastard, Natasha. He remained stubbornly silent.  
  
Jason heaved a long- suffering sigh. He really didn't like interrogations… not much.   
Taggliatti's he'd relished because he'd hated the bastard and had wanted to prolong his   
suffering as long as possible. He felt no such emotion for this nameless man, he was just   
a lackey, an incompetent one at that. He had no time to waste. He wanted to know who   
had ordered the man to follow Alexis and why. "You'll talk anyway, you know that,   
don't you?"  
  
For the first time he noticed Morgan's hands were gloved in latex. His eyes widened as   
he lifted a syringe, pumped it once to make sure it was full and, even as he struggled   
against his bonds, jabbed it into the side of his neck.   
  
He felt no different, thinking that whatever he'd been injected with would take a while to   
kick in. But to his horror, as Jason stripped off the gloves and asked him again, "Who are   
you?" he had no control over his actions and he found himself answering: "Roland   
Thermopolos."  
  
Jason arched a brow, though he wasn't too surprised to learn he was Greek. After all,   
he'd imagined Zico's kidnappers to be Greek – they had to be able to control the boy.   
"Who hired you?"  
  
"Marietta Kincaid."  
  
"Who is she?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Who works with you?"  
  
"Hilan Yanouk and Andreas Panathinaikos."  
  
That last name rang a bell but he couldn't place it. "Would they know who she is?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Jason grit his teeth. This man didn't seem to know much of anything. "Why were you   
following Alexis?"  
  
"I don't know any Alexis. I was told to follow Natasha Cassidine."  
  
"When was this."  
  
"Three days ago when the little boy went missing from the boat."  
  
"Zico Constantine?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Marietta Kincaid was responsible for his kidnapping?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"You don't know _shit_, do you!" Jason exploded.   
  
Roland said nothing. He felt very nauseous.   
  
"Where is the boat?"  
  
"I –"  
  
Jason cut him off. "Let me guess, you _'don't know'_?"  
  
Roland nodded.   
  
"Are there more men looking for the child?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How many?"  
  
"Two."  
  
"The men you were working with?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And Alexis… Natasha?"  
  
"Just me."  
  
"Where can I find them?"  
  
He knew this would probably be like signing his Comrades death certificates but he   
couldn't help it. "On the docks. In an abandoned warehouse. Pier 23. They like to go to   
the bar on the docks."  
  
"Jake's?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Are they armed?"  
  
"Not heavily."  
  
"Good."  
  
"What are you going to do with me?"  
  
Jason didn't want to kill him; he didn't want to let him go either. He'd have to think   
carefully about this. After a careful study and recap, he realized that this man seemed   
terrified of this Marietta Kincaid, whoever she was. "Enjoy my hospitality for a little   
while, Roland. Then you can go."  
  
His eyes widened. He knew this was no gesture of goodwill. Once his comrades reported   
he'd been missing and then he suddenly showed up unhurt, Marietta would ask no questions   
before having him executed. "No!"  
  
Jason turned and shut the door on the man's shouts. Maybe he'd put himself out of his   
misery with the gun he'd left there.

"Are you serious?" Jason and Elizabeth were making their way up to the Penthouse Level   
in the elevator when Liz asked him the question.  
  
She thought that her father had roped them into an early dinner, not insisted that they   
move back into their old apartment.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Oh."  
  
The elevator dinged and the couple stepped off and into the hall, walking around the   
corner. The smiled at Johnny outside PH4 as Jason fished the key from his pocket. A few   
of the other guards had moved Jason's Spartan furniture into the apartment and the fridge   
was stocked, not like those two would be doing much cooking.   
  
As Jason shut the door behind her, Elizabeth got shivers as she looked to wards the   
staircase where she and Jason had had that fight so long ago. She smiled at the pool table   
and the beat up leather couch and Lay-Z Boy. Other than that, the house was bare, it's   
beautiful hardwood floors gleaming under the lights.  
  
"I missed this place," she said softly as Jason wrapped his arms around her and drew her   
against his chest. She'd loved it from when she'd first met him; when her mother had   
lived here; the few short days she'd lived here with him.  
  
"So did I."  
  
She tossed her bag onto the couch and made her way into the kitchen and the refrigerator.   
Sure enough it was stocked with, in addition to vegetables and other necessities like eggs,   
butter, milk and cheese, junk food like chocolate bonbons and soda and beer for Jason.   
The guards, definitely not her father, had done the shopping. "You want a beer?" she   
asked.  
  
"Sure," he said as he made his way to the Lay-Z Boy and sat down. As usual, the leather   
cushioned every angle; he flipped back the chair and he was more comfortable now than   
he'd been in a while when sitting in furniture. He'd missed this thing!  
  
"Here."  
  
He opened his eyes to see Elizabeth smiling down at him and holding out a can of beer.   
"Thanks."  
  
"So, what did you do today? I went back to the studio to take you to lunch but you   
weren't there."  
  
"I went to the Grille."  
  
"Oh?" confusion marred his brow.  
  
Choosing her words carefully she continued. "I had lunch with Daniel."  
  
A shutter descended over Jason's blue eyes. "_Toreno_?" he asked, although he knew only   
one Daniel.  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Elizabeth grinned mischievously. "Are you _jealous_?"  
  
"No!" Jason hastily denied.  
  
"_Really_?" he watched through half-slit eyes as she lifted her filmy chiffon skirt around   
her thighs and settled onto his lap.   
  
Jason groaned as Elizabeth rocked sensuously and pressed kisses along his throat. His   
hand dangled on the side of the chair and he set the beer safely on the ground.   
  
"'Cause, I'd be _mad_ with jealousy if I was you."  
  
"Should I be jealous?"  
  
Liz lifted her head and looked into Jason's smoky blue eyes. She could feel his growing   
arousal between her legs. "No," she bent to kiss him and in doing so, the chair suddenly   
lowered even more, causing her giggle even as Jason's lips swooped to cover hers.  
  
He tasted like beer and Jason and she couldn't prevent that moan that became trapped in   
her throat as his arms came around her body, pressing it closer to him. Elizabeth broke   
their kiss and her nimble fingers slipped under Jason's smooth stomach enjoying the   
jump and play of hard muscles under her touch. He sat up slightly and Elizabeth whipped   
his T-shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the floor until it lay on the beer can. Jason   
returned the favour, lifting her white tank top over her head and trailing his lips across   
her shoulders and collar before dipping and taking one pebbled nipple in his mouth.  
  
"Jason…" his name left her lips on a ragged whisper and he found himself filled with the   
need to make her say it over and over and over again until that was all she could   
remember.   
  
The pleasure was jack-knifing through her and he switched and his hands found their way   
under her skirt and gripping one silky thigh. It delved past the material of the flimsy   
underwear she had taken to wearing and one finger dipped into her dewy well.  
  
"Oh God…." Jason grinned against her chest as one finger was followed by another. He   
hadn't even gotten inside her and she was already calling for her Maker. Elizabeth   
fumbled with his fly as Jason steadily stroked his fingers deeper inside her. She felt them   
skewer in her and suddenly they were curled upward in a come-hither position as his   
thumb rubbed her nub hard. Elizabeth was holding herself above him and he could feel   
the strength of the muscles in her thighs, which were planted on either side of his. Her   
head was thrown back and she was chanting his name under her breath as his talented   
fingers stroked her towards orgasm. Sweat popped from his brow; he didn't think he'd   
seen anything more beautiful than Elizabeth Corinthos in the throes of an orgasm.  
  
One, two, three and she was there, her backed bowed and, if her hair had still been long,   
it would have been spread out on his jeans as she called out his name in a husky cry.  
  
He didn't waste anytime. In less time than it had taken to blink, his jeans were open and   
he was buried inside her, his fingers buried in the short curls at the nape of her neck,   
swallowing a cry of pleasure knowing that each thrust was prolonging her ecstasy. He'd   
taken Liz to the often-unattainable Nirvana of the multiple orgasm, but he didn't want   
Johnny or the rest of the Penthouse floor to know however.  
  
Elizabeth opened her eyes, her gaze riveted to Jason who guided her, seamlessly lifting   
her up and down, leading her in the dance that was old as time and love. Her hands   
gripped his shoulders and Jason's left her hips to cup her breasts as she took over, setting   
the pace.   
  
Her walls were still fluttering around her and she was so wet and tight and he was so deep   
he felt as though he'd died and gone to heaven. He was almost there and when   
Elizabeth's head was thrown back and her pace became almost frantic. "Oh God, Jason!"   
she cried out hoarsely and his mouth covered hers, smothering the rest of her chant,   
hoping that it wouldn't bring the guards running. They crashed over together and Jason   
held her body close to his as a bright light shattered over them and they rode it out   
together.  
  
Whether it was seconds, minutes or hours that passed when Jason next caught himself he   
opened his eyes to find Elizabeth lying limp in his arms. Their skin was still slick with   
sweat and his heart was racing like he'd just run a marathon. As if it weighed a ton, Liz   
lifted her head and smiled lazily at him before kissing him lingeringly. "_Now_ I see why   
you like this chair so much."  
  
As his fingers gently skimmed along her sweaty back, rubbing against the thin roughness   
of her birth-control patch in the small of her back, he merely smiled. He didn't have the   
strength to laugh.The after dinner rush had died down. It was an hour to closing and Courtney and Penny   
had had only a few latecomers to deal with. Her palms were sweaty and every time the   
phone rang, she jumped. She was beginning to think Dr. Meadows had forgotten to call   
when the shrill ring of the phone shattered the quiet of the phone.  
  
Courtney tried to camouflage the anxiety she felt as Penny, who was closer, answered the   
phone.   
  
"Kelly's." Penny paused and listened. "Yeah, sure, she's here. Hold a sec. Hey,   
Courtney, it's for you."  
  
Courtney nodded and made her way to the phone, wiping her sweaty hands on her apron.   
"Hello?"  
  
"Ms. Matthews, it's Dr. Meadows."  
  
"Hello," she didn't say whom because she didn't want Penny to know who was on the   
line.  
  
"I got your results back from the lab."  
  
"And?" she held her breath.  
  
"It's as you suspected: you're pregnant."

The warehouse was in the worst part of the docks. But, considering who was meeting   
there and why they were meeting there it was no wonder.  
  
Present were Delano, Yates and Lyle and eight of the nine men from the list that could be   
found. He'd already given them an outline of what he planned to do, of what had already   
been done. He'd seen the nods of satisfaction on their faces as they listened to his plans.   
There were all violent revenge-driven, often murderous men, but none of them, they   
conceded, held a candle to Delano Taggliatti.   
  
The ninth man hurried in, the other eleven turning to look at him. At the sight of one of   
the men he halted dead in his tracks and feelings of recognition barreled through him. He   
cast his mind's eye back to Iris Valcor's sketch and stared now at Edward Yates. Officer   
Cross swore. "We have a problem."  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: Whew! A nice loooooooonnnnnnnnggggggggggg chapter. Once I got started, I   
couldn't stop, lol. I hope you enjoyed it and please don't kill me because of Courtney's   
pregnancy.  
  
OT: Can anyone remember what year Jason's car accident was in? The one when he got in the accident with AJ not the one with Skipper.


	28. Chapter 28

Show: General Hospital  
  
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 28  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
A/N: Thanks a lot for your comments; you know I love them all. I'm glad to see you're   
enjoying the story still and you all make my day a little brighter when I see them in my   
mailbox. Fanfiction.net, despite its vast improvements in text is not uploading symbols,   
which I use for my scene breaks so I hope you didn't get too confused. I tried to upload sooner by my computer was playing around. Sorry. I hope you enjoy nonetheless.  
  
-------------------------------  
PH4  
-------------------------------  
Alexis felt his presence behind her and leaned back into his warmth. "You've been   
remarkably patient," she said softly. She sensed rather than saw Sonny smile.   
  
The two were paused on the threshold outside Michael's old room watching Zico sleep.   
His coal black hair was tousled about his forehead and he finally seemed to have settled   
down. It was about one in the morning but Alexis had been awake for a while. She and   
Sonny had just settled down for the night around eleven-thirty when the screams began.   
Alexis had thrown her robe on and in a flash had made her way down the hall; she'd   
rocked him through his tears until he'd eventually settled down. When she thought he'd   
calmed sufficiently, he'd whimpered and asked her softly to stay with him till he fell   
asleep. Looking down into his beautiful amber eyes, Alexis felt her heart breaking. How   
could one child be so haunted? Had she looked like this when she'd been his age? No   
doubt she'd been scared; she'd just seen Helena Cassidine slit her mother's throat before   
her eyes and been placed in the Cassidine hellhole by a sudden burst of paternal duty   
from Mikkos.   
  
From the way her gaze was riveted on the little boy, Sonny deduced what his fiancée was   
thinking. They'd both had terrible childhoods – he'd never want the same for any child.   
He totally understood Alexis's attachment to this child; his attachment as well.  
  
"He's sleeping now. Come back to bed," he coaxed softly.  
  
Alexis shook her head slowly. "What if he wakes back up?"  
  
Sonny's eyes drifted over to the sleeping boy. "Tell you what, _querida_, if he wakes up   
again, he can sleep with us, ok?"  
  
Alexis could feel impending tears burning her nose and she turned into Sonny's arms and   
laid her head on his shoulder. "You've should've heard what he said, Sonny…. This little   
boy's been through hell and it's only just the beginning."  
  
"Ssshhh," Sonny comforted, his arms tightening about her. "He has you and me and   
Jason – his guardian angels. We won't let anything happen to him."  
  
Alexis looked up, her brown eyes filled with conviction. "No, we _won't_." She would   
protect this child as if her life depended on it.  
  
----------------------------  
Earlier that evening  
----------------------------  
  
Much to her chagrin, the lassitude of their lovemaking had virtually knocked Elizabeth   
out. After dozing himself, Jason tenderly lifted her into his arms and carried her up to his   
bedroom. He laid her between the sheets and she didn't even stir when he gently kissed   
her cheek and left the room.   
  
Padding downstairs, he picked up his T-shirt from the ground, pausing as the bone-  
softening memories of what had transpired earlier in the chair barreled through him.   
Jason shrugged into the shirt and left the Penthouse, loping across the hall towards PH4.   
Johnny nodded in acknowledgement, knocked twice and opened the door. Sonny was   
perched on the couch, Scotch in hand as he sifted through a sheaf of papers. Whatever   
delectable concoction he'd whipped up for dinner lingered in the air and Jason's stomach   
tugged in reaction – in their haste to return to the Harborview, they'd forgotten all about   
dinner. Hopefully the guards had left enough for them to rustle up something.  
  
"How'd it go?" Sonny asked, looking up and catching sight of his friend and partner.  
  
Before they'd captured Roland, he'd immediately called back Sonny to let him know   
what was up. It was by no mere coincidence that Sonny had come back home soon after   
Alexis had brought back the boy and had not left. He'd neglected to tell Alexis, not   
wanting her to worry. Of course, now Sonny would want to know all about it after having   
gone through with the charade all afternoon.  
  
"He's a grunt. Doesn't know anything."  
  
"Nothing?"  
  
Jason methodically went through what little Roland had told them, both musing about   
who this Marietta Kincaid was. None of them had ever heard of her and more than likely   
the name was an alias. But whose alias? Her interest in Zico was before the murders, but   
could she have had something to do with them as well?  
  
Sonny asked that question.  
  
"I don't think so. Truthfully, they let a five year-old boy escape them, I don't think they   
have the brains to pull off something this intricate. I sent Adam and a few others to check out the place, but it was empty. They're waiting around to see if any of them come back. We'll grab them if they do."  
  
Sonny nodded and took another deep sip of his drink. Just then, they heard footsteps   
padding downstairs and both men looked up to see Alexis clear the last step.   
  
"Jason," she greeted, settling next to Sonny on the chair.   
  
"Alexis," he acknowledged in reply. "How did the interview go?" he asked the question   
that had plagued him all day.  
  
Quietly, Alexis summarized what had occurred in the interrogation, trying, and failing   
miserably, to dispassionately relate what Zico had revealed. She got up from her seat next   
to Sonny, partially to hide impending tears and to take up her briefcase from the   
sideboard. "This is a copy of the sketch the artist drew. Ric already gave a copy to Benny   
and they'll be mass-circulated tomorrow."  
  
Jason accepted the photo from her, staring at it intently. He'd never seen the man before   
in his life. He passed the photo to Sonny. "You ever seen him?" he asked his partner.  
  
Sonny frowned as he too scrutinized the photo. "Never. We obviously _should_," he   
continued dryly, no trace of humour in his tone as he stared at the uncanny likeness of the   
man who was trying to undermine their operation. He turned piercing eyes to his fiancée.   
"You know what this means, don't you?"  
  
Alexis arched a brow, although she had a pretty good idea as to what he was getting at.   
  
"I want you out of the country… at least till this is over."  
  
"And when will _that_ be, Sonny?" asked Alexis, foolishly feeling her temper rising – it   
always did whenever someone tried to dictate her life, which Sonny did and would   
continue to do on a regular basis.   
  
Jason found himself drawing back, wanting to give the couple their privacy to hash out   
the argument which, in his mind, had a foregone conclusion. He'd known that, if Zico   
had somehow identified a suspect, their lives would be in even bigger danger and they   
would deal with it as they'd always done – hide the women and children. He was also   
gearing himself up for his own confrontation with Elizabeth.  
  
He tuned out their rising voices and physically distanced himself from them, his mind   
sorting through a mental dossier, scrolling through to see if there was any trace of this   
man. Just then, his cellphone rang, piercing the ongoing battle of wills between the older   
couple. "Morgan," he stated, stepping out into the warm night air on the balcony.  
  
He could hear heavy breathing on the other line but still the person said nothing. "Who is   
this?" he inquired, Borg-like, his voice dripping with ice.  
  
"Jason, it's me… Courtney…."  
  
A shocked breath left Jason's body, but he rallied quickly. "Hey," he replied. "Is   
everything alright?"  
  
Courtney's next breath was tremulous but she dared not let her mind mistake his tone for   
something other than his typical concern. "I need to speak with you. I-i-it's important.   
Can you meet me at the loft in about half an hour?"  
  
Without even waiting for him to reply, she ended the call, leaving a very baffled Jason   
staring at his cellphone wondering what could be so important that she needed to speak to   
him at, he quickly glanced at his watch, ten-thirty. Frowning slightly, he stepped back   
into the apartment. "Listen, I gotta go take care of something."   
  
Sonny waved him off, obviously more intent on pointing out the obvious to Alexis. The   
argument was like a dance between those two; Jason doubted they'd really noticed he   
was gone.  
  
----------------------  
----------------------  
  
A _witness_! A goddamned _fucking_ witness!  
  
After Officer Cross' announcement and further explanation, Delano's reaction had been   
swift. He'd dismissed the eight other men, with their instructions and pulled Yates, Cross   
and Lyle aside. To say he had chewed Yates out was mild – he'd ended up backslapping   
the vet across the face, hard enough to draw blood. Lyle had swallowed inwardly,   
knowing the slightest infraction now could set Delano off with violent consequences.  
  
"How the _fuck_ could you let this happen, Yates! You don't leave witnesses!" he ranted.   
His fists clenched and he was inching to slam them into the older man's face. Yates,   
recognising his fury as well, stepped back, cupping a grizzly hand against his split lip. "I   
don't _pay_ you to _fuck up_! Not when we've got so much riding on this!" Delano turned to   
Cross, his black eyes blazing. "Who is it? Does Corinthos know?"  
  
Cross revealed what little he had seen and Delano pinched his brow, feeling one hell of a   
headache coming on. He grit his teeth and stepped away from the men, not trusting   
himself to be within striking distance of any of them, especially Yates, who he ached to   
beat to a pulp. "Did you recognize the boy?" he asked Cross.  
  
"No. I'd never seen him before."  
  
Delano turned thoughtful, his brain scrutinizing each detail that they knew and tried to   
logically sort through it all. "Whoever he is, Corinthos is probably going to make him   
disappear…" he mused.   
  
"Corinthos?" asked Lyle.  
  
"You don't think he's gonna entrust the life of the witness to the man who's offing his   
employees to the likes of the PCPD, do you?" Delano spat impatiently. "Listen," he   
began again, pointing a finger in the crooked cop's direction, "I want you to find out   
whatever you can about this kid. And _you_," he turned a withering glance towards Yates,   
"get out of PC. If I so much as _see_ your face before this thing is over, I'll save Corinthos   
the trouble and kill you myself."  
  
Now, two hours later, Delano was musing about his last words towards Yates. Given   
more time to stew, his mind had actually gleaned a means of getting the hawk-like   
scrutiny of the Corinthos-Morgan operation from turning in their direction. He picked up   
the telephone and dialed a now-familiar number.  
  
"Destang," came a gruff voice after two rings.  
  
"It's me," Delano replied. His instructions were simple: "Do it."  
  
Bruno Destang terminated the call and glanced up at the dilapidated building. Edward   
Yates had outlived his usefulness….  
  
Delano Taggliatti was a busy man that night. The call to Bruno Destang wasn't the only   
one that he made that night. After he set the phone back on the cradle he sat at the small   
desk in his room in the Port Charles Hotel, his mind trying to find the means of defusing   
this already volatile situation with Corinthos and Morgan.  
  
After working so well in the beginning, his once well thought out plan was now falling   
apart at the seams. Spread out before him were various photos of those with connections   
with the powerful duo – dock-workers on the job; Corinthos' secretary, Denise; the   
guards Johnny, Max, Francis, and a few other unidentifiable goons; and, of course, his   
family, the gorgeous fiancée and legal-eagle Alexis Davis, the two daughters Kristina, the   
kid his brother had unwisely kidnapped and her older sister, the beautiful Elizabeth   
Imogene Corinthos. Delano clenched his jaw and ran a finger along the classic curve of   
Liz's cheek. It was a photo taken outside her apartment in New York City, with the guard   
Francis Goodson lurking in the background.   
  
Delano bypassed the photograph and moved on, sifting through photos of the brother and   
fellow mouthpiece Ricardo Lansing-Corinthos, the harangue ex-wife Caroline Spencer-  
Corinthos (Delano grinned as he thought of how the tenacious blonde clung to her   
husband's surname although their divorce was final in a few months) and the redheaded   
kid, Michael. One of the last photos in the pile was that of the sister, Courtney Matthews.   
Delano picked up the picture and studied it thoughtfully, thinking back to the   
conversation he'd had with Lyle not too long ago. His photographers had confirmed that   
the two had broken up and that Morgan had moved back in with his ex-girlfriend, none   
other than Elizabeth Corinthos herself. Bruno, who was not only an efficient   
'housekeeper' but an excellent photographer as well, was shadowing her and had hinted   
that she had been distancing herself from the rest of the clan.  
  
_Just how big of a distance_, Delano wondered.  
  
He also wondered if his decision to kill Yates had been too hasty. He glanced at his watch   
– it was almost ten minutes since he'd made the call. By now, Yates had surely breathed   
his last and it was too late to do anything else. But he could deal with how the body was   
discovered… or not. His initial plan had been for Yates to be found dead in a very public   
place. Corinthos would have had to deal with the pressure of getting himself out from   
under the microscope of a very suspicious and single-minded Port Charles Police   
Department, while collectively breathing a sigh of relief because someone had taken care   
of the problem for them, giving Delano the opportunity to strike when it would most hurt.  
  
Now, he'd just make it seem that Yates had stepped up the game. The 'accountant'   
Benny had been next on his radar, but now, his devious mind would not allow his eyes to   
look away from the photo of the blonde, who vaguely reminded him of a life-sized Barbie   
doll. He could practically feel the noose tightening about his neck and he knew it was   
only a matter of time before someone connected Yates's face to the former Taggliatti's   
operation. He'd already put more men on the Harborview Towers watch, but there was   
only so close as you could get in that building. The blonde was the key to the initial   
stages of truly crippling the Corinthos-Morgan operation.   
  
He dialed that familiar number once more. "Destang."  
  
"Yes?" Bruno was now currently unscrewing the barrel of the silencer of his gun. In the   
flashes of neon light outside, Yates's prone body could be seen, slumped at the man's   
feet.   
  
"There's been a change of plans. Bring Yates to me," he paused, as if still considering his   
actions. "I want Corinthos' sister."  
  
"When?"  
  
"Let the good people of Port Charles read about it at breakfast…."  
  
------  
Loft  
------  
  
Courtney had handled Dr. Meadows's news well. She'd helped Penny close up early after   
the last customer left around a quarter to ten smiled at her friend as they parted ways in   
the small car lot. On the short drive home, her hands had mechanically reached for her   
carphone and, before she'd even realized what she was doing, her fingers had dialed   
Jason's cellphone number.  
  
After mentally browbeating herself over what she'd just done after putting down the   
phone, Courtney drove the rest of the way home slowly, before she pulled into her spot in   
front of the building about fifteen minutes later. She sat in the dark of her car in the   
shadows, mentally preparing herself for the confrontation, trying not to harbour any   
foolish expectations that Jason would have a sudden sense of duty and pledge his life to   
her and their unborn child. She couldn't help but wonder, what would their child look   
like? Would he or she have her platinum or Jason's dirty-blonde tresses? Would he or she   
have eyes the colour of the cerulean sky or of an icy glacier? Would he or she be talkative   
and bubbly like their mother or thoughtful and brooding like their father?   
  
So many questions; she didn't think she had the heart to sift through the answers, not   
when she had already set the ball rolling. She knew she couldn't hold back or come up   
with some silly excuse; the moment he turned those probing blue eyes in her direction,   
she'd more than likely fold and tell him the truth.   
  
Resigned to her fate, Courtney left the car and made her way up the stairs to the loft-  
apartment she had shared in much happier times with Jason. Sighing heavily, Courtney   
let herself into the dark apartment and locked the door behind her. Accustomed to   
navigating her way through the dark apartment, she left the lights off as she shrugged off   
her denim jacket and hung it and her bag on the coat rack beside the door. As she stepped   
away from the door heading towards the small kitchen, the tiny hairs on the back of her   
neck stood on end. Abruptly, Courtney halted, some sixth sense imparting that she was   
not alone.   
  
Cursing as her breathing started to roughen, Courtney's eyes swept through the darkness.   
They still hadn't adjusted to the dark as yet and she was too far away from a light-switch.   
Her instincts goaded her to call out to the darkness but she halted herself, remembering   
what Jason had told her – never give yourself away to the enemy.  
  
It was too late, she couldn't help but think. She was practically defenseless in the dark.   
Courtney held her breath, trying not to cry, not being able to see the enemy yet knowing   
it was there. Mentally she prepared herself for a fight… Seconds too late.  
  
The wire snapped around her neck, instantly beginning to shut off her air supply.   
Courtney hadn't even heard him come up behind her. Her startled and terrified scream   
ended on a squawk and her eyes bulged as her hands immediately came around her neck   
to try to dislodge the sharp wire that was not only choking her but slicing the delicate   
skin of her throat.  
  
Her body slammed back into a hard muscular form and she could hear steady breathing   
close to her ear. That incensed Courtney – the man was trying to suffocate her and   
probably had not so much as even broken a sweat. She had so much to fight for – she   
wasn't going to make it easy for the fucker.   
  
Adrenaline started to juice through her veins. She lifted herself off her feet, throwing the   
man behind her off balance. She swayed, her legs splaying in the dark air, slamming into   
the little knickknacks and even a lamp, making one helluva ruckus. She kicked back, her   
heeled boots making savage contact with his shin and then his instep.   
  
The only consolation was the man's breathing started to escalate as he tried to keep   
control of the situation – obviously, he hadn't been expecting Courtney to fight back.   
  
His grip on the wire did not let up, however.  
  
Courtney could feel her grip on life waning, and hot tears of terror and anger started   
sluicing down her cheeks. _Why now?_ She had to fight, had to fight for her baby. But she   
couldn't…. Even as she continued to struggle with the man, she could see stars in front   
her eyes and she could imagine her face turning blue. She still tried to pull the wire from   
around her neck – it wasn't working; in fact, the sharp wire had begun to draw blood,   
further accounting for her light-headedness.   
  
By this time, Jason was making his way up the stairs to the loft when he heard the crash   
of something breaking against the floor. Knowing Courtney lived alone on this floor,   
anxiety immediately flooded his body and he bounded the last few yards to the door.   
"_Courtney_!" he called frantically, as the crashing of objects continued. "_Courtney_!" he   
called again, throwing his shoulders into the solid oak door, hoping unrealistically that it   
would give under his weight.  
  
_Jason!_ Courtney's heart soared, even as its rate plummeted further. She was fighting a   
losing battle. Finally, she felt a knee placed in the small of her back and Destang lifted   
her and snapped the wire back with all his strength, desperate now to end her life before   
Morgan burst in and ended his. In an instant, Courtney was rendered immobile, her legs   
thrashing in midair as the wire snapped through the skin, savagely assaulting the already   
bruised windpipe.  
  
Within mere seconds, Destang had snuffed out her life and the life of her unborn baby….  
  
Breathing heavily, Destang cast the body away from him, feeling like a trapped animal.   
Outside, Jason heard a thud then he could hear nothing more and, fearing the worst, whipped out his gun and   
fired three shots in rapid succession to the lock he'd installed himself. In the apartment,   
Destang mentally composed himself, slipping his own gun from its holster, knowing he   
would have only a few precious seconds to act. Morgan would be cautious on entering,   
but he had cut the lights and it would take a few seconds for his eyesight to adjust to the   
darkness.  
  
Anxious to save the woman he'd fancied himself in love with for more than a year, Jason   
burst into the room, gun in hand. Truthfully, he'd been expecting the darkness, not the   
sick cloying fear that threatened to smother him. It was his last coherent thought before   
Destang materialized from the shadows behind him and savagely slammed the butt of his   
gun to the back of Jason's head, and everything went black as his body heavily hit the   
floor next to Courtney's.  
  
TBC…  
  
A/N: I apologise to anyone who was offended by the violence in this chapter. I hope you   
don't think me too heartless after this chapter considering Courtney's condition. I toyed   
with the idea of letting Courtney live because of her pregnancy but, honestly, I didn't   
want her in the way. I know there are countless other ways I could have had her exit but it   
just didn't fit in with the type of story I want to write. This will obviously have   
repercussions throughout the end of this installment in the series and plays a major role in   
the next part of the series: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' III: Sins of the Father (tentative   
title). Please leave me a line or two, even if it is to give me a verbal ass kicking. 


	29. Chapter 29

Show: General Hospital

Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 29

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: I feel the review river running dry. I hope sporadic updating or offensive writing has not alienated you. I must confess – I haven't been watching the show lately. Maybe that may account for my lack of enthusiasm over this story, since none of the central characters of my story have been especially endearing in recent times. That said, it's your reviews that keep encouraging me to write, so please don't be stingy – REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW. It'll make me happy and get me writing more.

On last chapter, congratulations to **luvr, **my 100th reviewer! Thanks a bunch! And mwah! to all those who _did_ review. I hope Courtney's death didn't shock you too much – yes, **Sea'Wana** she's dead. But, like I said, it all serves a higher purpose. I just wish I knew what, cause when writing this chapter, I was plumb out of ideas (sigh) – another reason to get you to review, lol! Enough with the rambling (haven't had one of these long A/N's in a while). That being said, I hope you enjoy!

X-X-X-X-X

Loft 

Destang was sweating.

Anyone even remotely connected to the man knew that this was just not _normal._ Bruno Destang did _not _sweat. Even after a two-hour workout, the man barely had a sheen about his forehead. Even after showdowns with thugs he did not sweat.

But this was different. This wasn't just any normal _thug_. This was _Jason_ _Morgan._ The only man who could instill a sense of desperation in the otherwise unflappable assassin. The man who would not hesitate to put a bullet in his skull if he had the capacity to do so. Luckily for him, he was out cold, sprawled next to the very much dead body of his former girlfriend.

Destang breathed deeply, trying to calm the cloying fear that threatened to drown him simply because he was in the same room as the man. He didn't feel a sense of victory that he had gotten one-up on the Corinthos Enforcer. The goose egg that would make a more startling appearance on the back of his head when or if he woke was proof enough to him that Morgan was not an invincible god. His mind thought back to the pain other men like him had inflicted only for Jason to bounce back seemingly unscathed. At the very least, the man was a demi-god, Destang conceded.

_Like Achilles..._Destang mused, once he thought he'd gotten a small hold of his emotions. He wondered, what was this man's weakness? He fished out his cellphone. He couldn't wait to find out. It would be a perverse pleasure to bring the demi-god to his knees.

X-X-X-X-X

PH2 

_How is it that dreams have the capacity to turn to nightmares so quickly?_

It was a question Elizabeth never got the opportunity to ponder.

The images behind her eyelids were sending shivers of delight and heart-stopping pleasure up her spine. Everything was so vivid – the crisp taste of beer on his tongue, the scent – leather, soap and male – that was uniquely Jason filling her nostrils, the rough pads of his callused fingertips stroking her flesh, the slip and slid of his golden muscles over the softer, creamier skin of her body....

When the dream turned violent she didn't know. When Jason's moans of pleasure turned to a silent cry of pain, when the sensual light in his glacier-blue eyes turned dull and dark, she couldn't comprehend. She didn't know when she awoke, practically screaming her head off to see the spot beside her in what she knew was _his _bed in what was now _their _room, was empty.

He wasn't there....

Perhaps, that was what made it all the more terrifying. There had always been this strange bond between them. And now, it felt as though someone was slowly cutting away at the silken strands of this bond, toying with her emotions – she knew something was terribly wrong.

X-X-X-X-X

Loft 

"We have a problem," Destang announced, much like Officer Cross had several hours before.

Delano cursed softly, wondering what could happen next. "What?" he hissed in inquiry.

Quickly and efficiently, Destang counted off the seconds, knowing that, if anyone was in the building that they must have heard the shots and, if they were brave, may have called the police and/or would be on their way to check.

Delano could barely hold back a crow of satisfaction when Destang finally revealed that he had knocked Jason out cold. As usual, like a cat, he always landed on his feet and his devious mind was already trying to figure out how to use this new hand he'd been dealt with to the best of his advantage.

_Morgan was in his grasp! Oh, how the mighty have fallen!_ "Leave the girl. I still want to read about it in the papers.... Bring Morgan to the warehouse. I have a feeling we have plenty to speak about."

Delano terminated the call and Destang stood in the dark, a frown marring his face. He didn't know how much time he'd have before Morgan woke again. He most definitely did _not _want to tangle with the man and now he wished he'd injected him with a sedative instead of clobbered him over the head. He could rectify that problem as soon as they made it to his car, but that was easier said than done – Morgan was two hundred pounds of solid muscle and he was nothing more than dead weight in his unconscious state.

Destang cursed vehemently in Hungarian, his mother's native language. He had not planned for this! He was not equipped for this! And his time was running out. Someone would have had to hear the shots and would be on their way!

Knowing that freaking out would not aid him, Destang looked around the dark room. In the corner, he spotted the window and crossing to it, counted his lucky stars as he looked down to the fire escape. A glance that had been catalogued in his brain knew without looking that Morgan was dressed entirely in black, as was he, which would make their escape harder to detect. He picked up Jason's pistol from its position on the ground and lifted the nasty little derringer strapped to his ankle, pocketing both firearms for further use if need be.

Grunting, he dragged Jason's body to the window and heaved him out onto the landing, cursing as they swayed and creaked. Quickly, he switched his Mag-Lite on and swept in around the room, checking for obvious evidence. Seeing none, he switched it off and stepped out of the window, pausing to close it behind him. Gritting his teeth, he hoisted Jason over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and proceeded down the stairs, keeping in the shadows as he made his descent. Finally after two breathtaking minutes, his feet hit the ground. As calmly as if he were tossing a bag of feed he dumped Jason's prone body into the trunk of his SUV, next to the lifeless body of Edward Yates. Whistling softly, he sat behind the wheel and calmly drove away.

X-X-X-X-X

Three gunshots.

It kept reverberating in her head, this horrible dream. She woke from it, gasping for air and drenched in sweat. The sound of those three bullets thundering into... _something_ had trapped her for two hours, finally wrenching her from her sleep.

Eunice Simmons, Courtney's downstairs neighbour, lay trembling between her sheets in her bed on the ground floor. _I really need to lay off the burritos, _she was thinking, even as a sick sense of foreboding continued to splash over her in waves. When she'd woken, the apartment had been silent as it usually was in the middle of the night. But there was something else in the air. Something sinister and Eunice did not like this one bit.

Swallowing heavily, Eunice swung herself out of bed and paced, her mind turning over the events of her dream – no, _nightmare_. She, like most women on a crash diet, she imagined, was dreaming of being chased by a giant Fat Monster, after falling off the wagon that afternoon and stuffing her face full of burritos, doughnuts, cake and washing it all down with sugary soda. It would have been bearable if the Fat Monster hadn't backed her into a wall and then pulled a gun, firing three shots into her whale-bloated body.

Her fear had been almost suffocating when she realized she couldn't snap herself out of it and so she had relived the horrific experience of being shot three times over and over again.

_Oh, Eunice, snap out of it! _she berated herself. _It was just a dream, _she tried to calm herself by repeating. _I need a snack. _That'll_ help the nightmares, _her conscience pointed out. In denial, Eunice pulled on her robe, grabbed some change and, trudging her way through the darkness, let herself out of her apartment and proceeded down the hallway.

_Damn! _Eunice cursed when she realized the vending machine had a big 'OUT OF ORDER' sign plastered on it. _That hadn't been there the last time I was here!_ She supposed she should have been proud, considering her last midnight visit had been two weeks ago when she'd vowed for the millionth time to quite eating junk food.

Resigned to having to go back to her apartment without the comfort of a pack of Doritos or at least a Mars bar, Eunice was about to head back when she remembered that there was another machine on the third floor. Five minutes later, she was gleefully tearing open said pack of Spicy Nacho Doritos when she noticed something, seemingly for the first time. There were two doors on the corridor, each leading into the coveted loft-style apartments she could only dream of affording on her secretarial salary. One of the tenants had moved out, leaving a glaring vacancy she was sure was about to be filled before the end of the week. The other belonged to a blonde waitress and her boyfriend. She (Eunice) had only moved to Port Charles about a month ago, but she'd heard the rumours about the man and what he did for a living. The strange thing was that the door to their apartment was wide open, glaringly obvious even in the dimness of the corridor.

That sense of foreboding returned doubly and, ignoring all the tips from the police, she ventured cautiously down the hallway. Everything was eerily quiet, another fact Eunice now seemed to observe. "H-h-hello," Eunice called. No reply. Eunice's gulp was clearly audible. She had by this time made her way to the door. "Miss? Is everything alri-"she had pushed open the door even wider, and the dim light from the corridor spilled into the room, highlighting the calamity... and the body.

Eunice fainted.

X-X-X-X-X

Officer Lucas Lorenzo Spencer Jr. a.k.a. Lucky had his hands full. As a junior officer, it was his job to keep the witness calm whilst leaving the discovery of the crime scene to the more experienced officers on the case. This wasn't the case tonight – he had to do both – and the chubby twenty-something who maintained a vise-grip on his arm wasn't making it any easier.

"Three gunshots," she babbled for the millionth time, turning terrified eyes to him. "She was alone up there."

Lucky's eyebrows skyrocketed. This was the first new sentence she'd said since his arrival. "Who was, ma'am?"

"The blonde woman. On the top floor... no one else lives up there."

"Do you know her name?"

"No," Eunice shook her head. "She's a waitress though...."

Lucky's eyes widened, a sickening sense of disaster traveling up his spine.

"At the diner, Kelly's," she continued.

Lucky felt as though he would vomit. _It can't be_, his mind shouted frantically. "Tall, blonde, blue-eyed, really pretty?" he asked shakily.

"Yes," Eunice seemed to be on the verge of tears. "She had a boyfriend... the other tenants were talking about how he's in the –"

She broke off, never getting a chance to finish because Lucky had bolted up the staircase, slipping his gun from the holster as he went.

"He went that way!" she shouted, pointing to the stairway as a few other officers arrived at the scene.

Not sure if she meant the perpetrator or Lucky, Taggert nodded and hurried up the stairs, his partner Garcia, who'd returned from New York City just that afternoon, a mere step behind him.

Despite knowing that, unless the perp was a complete fool, he would be long gone, Lucky still proceeded with caution. He had reached the third floor and was peering around the corner down the dark corridor that led to what he presumed was Courtney's apartment. He was halfway down the corridor when he heard footsteps behind him. He looked back to see Taggert following behind him.

At this point, Lucky should have paused and allowed Taggert, as commanding officer, to overtake him but he continued to head the way, much to Taggert's displeasure. Once at the door, the sight of the mangled lock was not lost on him and he knew whatever he would find inside would not be pretty.

Cautiously, he pushed open the door, peering into the darkness beyond. By this time, Taggert had reached him and, casting a censuring glare at the younger man, reached for his flashlight and turned it on, its powerful beam slicing through the darkness. Immediately, all three officer's eyes shrewdly took in the mess – shards of glass and ceramic lay everywhere as did numerous magazines that looked to have been swept to the floor in an obvious struggle. The beam swept into the corners, looking for any lurking shadows – they found none.

Garcia, who had also switched on his light, choked as it swept over a large lump on the rug by the couch. "Shit!"

At the sound, Taggert pointed his flashlight in the general direction he realized his partner was pointing. "Oh, Christ!" Taggert bemoaned, as he recognized the face of the body.

Lucky felt the bile rising rapidly in his throat and just barely managed to keep it in as he stared into the empty blue eyes of Courtney Matthews.

X-X-X-X-X

Harborview Towers 

Elizabeth shivered despite the warmth as she stepped out of PH2 into the hallway. It was just one in the morning and she couldn't sleep. The fact that Jason was not beside her was making her even more nervous. The guard stationed outside the door of PH4 nodded in greeting. "Is there something you need Ms. Corinthos?" he asked politely, taking in her dazed look.

Elizabeth took a breath, feeling foolish for wanting the comfort of her parents. "No," she said. She'd turned around on the pretense of returning to her apartment when the ding from the elevator resounded in the quiet hallway. Her spirits rose immediately, sure that Jason was going to round the corner any second now and they would laugh about her nervousness before finishing what they had started earlier that evening.

Nothing could have prepared her for what happened next.

Marco, the night guard's brow wrinkled as he realized that there was more than one person heading towards them and was indeed very surprised and annoyed to see Detectives Taggert _and _Garcia striding towards them. Lucky was part of the group, hanging behind his commanding officers, but his was the only face Elizabeth was focused on. He seemed surprised to see her and his shoulders slumped even further. He wouldn't – _couldn't _– look her in the eyes.

Liz stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights. She truly seemed like a fragile woodland creature standing there in the golden light of the hallway in an oversized T-shirt and shorts, her cobalt blue eyes huge in her beautiful face. Finally, Lucky looked up and what she saw made her opalescent skin paler. His heart was in his eyes as he opened his mouth in greeting and he caught a look of anguished comprehension even as she shook her head in denial. Elizabeth's knees buckled and, had Marco not been standing behind her, she would have slumped to the floor.

"Jesus," Garcia cursed.

They sprang into action immediately, Marco cradling her body as Taggert leapt forward to open the door.

"No," she whispered, her voice filled with grief as Marco gently carried her inside, the police officers following close behind.

Above them footsteps could be heard and soon Sonny and Alexis careened down the stairs clad in their nightclothes.

"Elizabeth!" Alexis exclaimed at the sight of her daughter cradled in the guard's arms.

"What the hell is going on here?" Sonny demanded to know, taking stock of the fact that the PCPD were in _his _house at one in the morning. "Isn't it a little too early to be harassing my family Detective?" he asked sarcastically, his face rapidly turning red.

The looks exchanged between the cops should have clued him in, but his anger and concern for his daughter blinded him for the moment. Alexis took Liz from Marco and held her close as she kept watchful eyes on the other men.

"Well, answer me!"

Taggert surely ached to insult Corinthos but there was a time and place for everything and this was most certainly _not _the time _or _the place. Instead, he cleared his throat, thoroughly regretting having to break the news. Despite their differences, he too had a little sister who he loved dearly, and he couldn't imagine the pain he was about to instill. "There's been another murder," he said, much more gently than he thought even _he _was capable of.

Sonny's eyes screwed shut and the room was quiet for a few long seconds, except for Elizabeth's continued murmurs of, "No...".

"Who was it?" Alexis asked the dreaded question.

Elizabeth sat up, tears streaming down her face and her nose burning as she anticipated the worst. Lucky ached to comfort his friend, but couldn't.

"It was Courtney."

Sonny felt as though he'd just been sideswiped by a Mack truck or, at the very least, hit in the stomach by a bowling ball. Either way, all the breath left his body in a rush and Garcia, who had been filled in on what had happened in the many months he had been in New York City, watched in awe as the great Sonny Corinthos' knees literally buckled and he sank heavily to the couch next to fiancée and daughter.

Sonny struggled for breath and he shook his head in denial as Taggert's words washed over him. Alexis's grief was quieter and she hugged Elizabeth fiercely to her bosom.

Lucky swallowed hard as he watched his friend, the girl he'd once loved with all his heart and soul, keen for the loss of her aunt. The noise, or maybe the electric charge of grief in the air seemed to have woken everyone up because both Taggert and Lucky looked up to the stairs to see Zico and Kristina poised by the railing holding each other's hand.

"Mama?" Kristina called softly in confusion.

Alexis looked up to see them and her sobs became audible. Sonny opened his arms and the two children hurried down the stairs and he wrapped them both in a tight embrace.

For the next few minutes, the Penthouse was filled with the sound of the weeping of Alexis and her children. Sonny remained stoic although silent tears were streaming down his face.

Taggert and the rest of his entourage stood in awkward silence, watching the family grieve. Lucky discreetly wiped his eyes and felt his friend's pain – he knew she took death hard. Garcia cleared his throat and when he spoke his voice was husky with sympathy, "You need to go down to the station Mr. Corinthos. There're some papers you need to sign and you need to verify that it's your sister's body."

Sonny nodded stiffly as he held his younger daughter in his arms. Zico sat on his knee – there was an understanding of the pain in his amber-coloured eyes. It was very disheartening to see. "I'll be by in the morning," his voice cracked and he looked away.

"Of course," Taggert said brusquely. He took one more look at the family and shook his head – so the Corinthos' _were_ human. He thought he'd never live to see the day when he sympathized. He motioned his partner and Lucky to follow as the guard escorted them out. Lucky tried to catch Elizabeth's eye, but her face was buried in her mother's shoulder.

As Marco shut the door behind them and took his place as sentinel, Taggert was still shaking his head as they filed down the corridor. One of his theories about the murders had just been completely disproved. One part of him just hadn't been able to shake the feeling that Corinthos had somehow been responsible for the deaths although another part had been swift to point out that, while there was a definite professionalism, it was not Sonny's or more specifically _Jason's _MO. No, Morgan would have snuck up on him with his Glock or staked out 200m away – one silenced bullet and they wouldn't even have heard the 'am!' in 'Bam!' Then, another part pointed out that Corinthos was smart enough to try to throw them off their trail, so maybe Jason would have offed them the way they'd bitten the dust. But no part of his body could guess as to why Corinthos would want his sister dead. There was a simple answer – he didn't. So, there went the usual suspect and as usual, they were back to square one.

Garcia was mulling over similar theories and questions in his head. His beef with Corinthos wasn't as legendary as his partner's and he hadn't been around the past several months, so he offered a new perspective on things. As he stepped out of the elevator into the lobby of the building, his brow furrowed. He paused suddenly and Taggert looked back at his partner in confusion. "Where's Morgan?"

X-X-X-X-X

This particular room in the warehouse looked like a bad set from a B-rated horror flick. The walls were dank and musty, there was only one door and chains with disturbing little hooks hung suspended above them. It looked much like a curing room – which it had been for fifty years before the Quartermaines had sold it to the Taggliattis in order to make some quick cash. Now Delano Taggliatti had a more sadistic yearning – no more hams or slabs of beef – he ached to string the great Jason Morgan up.

Said man sat tied to a metal chair underneath a hanging bulb emitting the feeblest of lights. His hands were tied behind his back in an intricate knot with a ten-string rope – thank God for Boy Scouts! His legs were also strapped behind the chair ensuring, should Jason wake up, he wouldn't try to get creative like Jet Li and cut off his air supply like what seemed to happen in those martial arts movies. The back legs of the chair were wide spread, so it would hurt like a bitch when Morgan regained consciousness.

Delano took the time to study the man and had to admit he was a prime example of male perfection. The body beneath the T-shirt and jeans was tight and muscular; he had a GQ face – high cheekbones, strong jaw, smooth skin – and blonde hair and blue eyes. Delano understood beauty. Morgan could have made a fortune off his looks. Delano hated him even more.

All Jason felt was cold and a depressing darkness. There was a sharp pain at the back of his skull and a pounding behind his eyes. As he slowly drifted back to consciousness he tried to reorient his body to a more comfortable position – he failed miserably, not realizing his hands were tied.

Delano watched this with a gleeful eye, eager to get the show on the road. He walked slowly toward Jason, his footsteps echoing eerily off the walls. He stopped right in front of his quarry and, quick as a viper strikes, grabbed a handful of Jason's spiky blonde hair and yanked his head back. Instantly, his eyes snapped open and a sadistic smile found its way to Delano's face as he recognized shock, confusion and pain in the ice-blue depths.

"Hello, Morgan..." he said, his voice sweet as molasses, though the taint of sarcasm and hatred was a thinly veiled aftertaste.

As Jason's vision focused, he could only stare in shock as Daniel Toreno stared down at him.

TBC...

A/N: I don't think that Delano's identity is much of a surprise, but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless. I'm sorry about the lack of delays but I got shipped off island to my dad's where I didn't have a computer – I forgot the disk I write chapters on anyways, so I'm soooooo sorry. Please review and the next chapter won't take as long, I promise.

Cara


	30. Chapter 30

Show: General Hospital

Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 30

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: I've been really busy since school started then the weather, my computer and my muse joined forces in order to thwart me and prevent me from getting this out sooner. I'm sorry and hope you accept this chapter as a token of apology. Read and review, folks!

Jason blinked rapidly, sure that he was hallucinating. "_Toreno_?" he said, his voice laced with astonishment.

Delano tossed his head back and laughed, it was strangely maniacal but entirely fitting for the situation. "Bet you weren't expecting to see me!"

It was the understatement of the year.

Jason shook his head in disbelief as his mind tried to process what he now knew. Toreno was obviously connected to the calamity that had befallen them in recent weeks, but as to his motive, Jason hadn't a clue. "Why?" he asked, his glacier-blue eyes pinned on Delano, who was still chuckling.

At the other man's question, all signs of laughter disappeared from Delano's face. "'Why?' the man asks," he said to the dark of their surroundings. He snared at Jason. "I'll tell you _why_!" He reached into his pocket and held up a photo. "This! _This _is why!"

Jason eyes fell on a photograph of Joseph Taggliatti. Delano's cold black eyes narrowed in fury at the complete indifference in his enemy's gaze.

Alexis watched the warm fingers of dawn slip over Port Charles from the balcony of PH4. Behind her, on the living-room couch, Kristina and Zico slept side by side. Elizabeth sat at the end of the couch, wrapped tightly in an afghan. She had not said a word since the police had left and Jason had not returned to Harborview or at least called and had only slumped off about ten minutes ago. As the first birds flew across the horizon to verbally herald the new day, Alexis stole a glance at her watch – five-thirty a.m. Johnny had been out on the prowl all night. He'd returned half an hour ago, with no news of Jason.

Alexis was worried.

Sonny was too. It was written in his eyes although he said nothing. After Johnny had left the apartment to wait outside, he'd stolen a look at his elder daughter. Elizabeth had been staring off into space, looking so fragile that a feather could knock her over.

Alexis turned her head when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs and stepped back into the apartment, sliding the glass door shut behind her. Sonny was dressed in his customary suit – dark pants and jacket, black shirt, no tie – his battle gear, his ebony hair slicked back from his face.

"I'm gonna head down to the station now," he said softly.

"Okay," Alexis nodded, her eyes misting with tears as she noted the anguish in her fiancé's face. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"No," he shook his head. He looked over to the couch where their children lay sleeping. "You should be here when the kids wake up... and to look out for Elizabeth."

Alexis swallowed a lump in her throat but nodded. She paused and looked away, debating whether to ask the question that was gnawing at her insides.

"What?" asked Sonny, reaching out to gently slip a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Do you... do you think something happened to Jason?"

Sonny's dark eyes met Alexis's lighter brown orbs. "I don't even want to think about that," he replied honestly, his voice cracking at the last.

Alexis's face crumpled and Sonny pulled her into his arms. "We'll find him," he said, his voice filled with a reassurance he did not feel in the slightest.

Jason's eyes met Delano's in the dark. His head felt as though it would split with the pain that was pounding behind his eyes, but his curiosity and his need to know why Toreno felt he'd been wronged was more dominant. "Who are you?"

Delano's eyes narrowed. "My name is Delano Taggliatti and _you_," he spat into Jason's face, "_you _killed my brother!"

Jason didn't flinch as Delano's spittle landed on his cheek. Although his outward appearance didn't change, he was in shock upon learning that new piece of information. "Joseph Taggliatti signed his death warrant the minute he kidnapped Sonny Corinthos' daughter," he replied more strongly than he felt physically at that moment.

"And you signed _yours_ the minute you put that bullet in his head," Delano hissed.

Jason's head was swimming but he tried diligently not to let his enemy see his weakness. "Your brother was a monster."

"And you're _not_? Oh, I forgot," Delano paused sarcastically, "you're Jason Morgan. You're a robot; you're incapable of feelings."

Jason didn't even blink in acknowledgement, which only served to further infuriate Delano. "Sonny's going to find out who you are eventually. You're an amateur Taggliatti," Jason goaded, without even raising his voice. "You're sloppy and you make careless mistakes. When he finds you, you'll wish you'd let sleeping dogs lie."

Delano smiled sinisterly. "No, no, no, Morgan, that's where you're wrong. By the time they find _you_, and they _will_... eventually, it'll be too late to change anything. You, my friend, are the way to Sonny Corinthos' downfall."

All activity ceased when the doors to police headquarters opened and the Corinthos brothers and their bodyguards stepped inside. For once, there was very little hostility from the police officers; it was replaced with a sense of sympathy for the brothers who had lost a sister. Ric led the way and Sonny followed, his head held high and his eyes fierce although on the inside, he was quivering with grief.

"Mr. Corinthos."

Sonny looked up to see Mac Scorpio flanked by Detectives Taggert and Garcia. "Mac," he acknowledged the other two officers with a nod.

"I'll have Detectives Taggert and Garcia escort you below to the morgue."

"Thank you," Ric replied, when it seemed Sonny couldn't even nod.

The two men turned away when Mac stopped them again. "I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Corinthos," he said, his voice laced with sympathy.

Sonny nodded and followed Garcia and Taggert down the hall to the elevators.

The ride down to the basement floor of Police Headquarters seemed to be like a descent into the pits of hell. As the doors opened, the four men stepped into a stark sterile hallway, lit with harsh fluorescent lights. Classical music reached their ears as they proceeded down a short hallway and through two swinging doors. The large room behind the doors was surgical blue and five metal tray tables were arranged. Sterile medical equipment was positioned about the room and on the far end was a wall of metal drawers, used for storing the many bodies that had a habit of popping up in Port Charles. On one of the other walls were two cluttered desks. One was empty but at the other, a woman in a white lab coat and surgical scrubs sat typing rapidly at a computer.

On hearing footsteps approaching she stopped typing and turned towards them. On recognizing the men, she stood up and took off her glasses, which hung around her neck by a colourful string, and moved to greet them.

Taggert made the introductions. "Dr. Louisa Hart, meet Sonny Corinthos and his brother Ric Lansing."

She nodded politely and extended a hand, which both men shook. "Mr. Corinthos, Mr. Lansing." Port Charles's new Chief Medical Examiner certainly was not what Sonny or his brother had expected. Dr. Hart was petite and as fine-boned as a bird. She had fiery red hair, which reminded Sonny of Bobby Spencer's, pale luminescent skin without any freckles, and fathomless green eyes the colour of emeralds. She appeared to be about in her twenties, but she had to be thirty at least.

"Dr. Hart," Ric replied, hoping he did not look or sound as fascinated as he felt inside.

Louisa was busy forming her own opinion about the two brothers. Both were dark haired and olive-skinned, with dark brown almost black eyes framed with dense long sooty eyelashes that seemed wasted on a man. Ric was taller, but Sonny had an air of absolute authority that suited his reputation as the most powerful mobster on the Eastern Seaboard. Both however, had an air of despair that shadowed their beautiful eyes, Sonny especially. Still, she was inexplicably drawn toward the younger of the two, a highly inappropriate feeling considering the circumstances.

"This way, please," she instructed, abruptly turning her back and heading through another swinging door. They entered a stark white room, in the center of which was a table covered with a sheet. The contour of a body was visible beneath it. "The body was brought in early this morning. I've done an external examination, however I'll perform a full autopsy after you've verified if this is indeed your sister." She paused directly at the body, donned a pair of gloves and went to pull back the sheet. Seeing the disintegrating look of grief on the brothers' faces, she asked softly, "Would you two like some time alone?"

Ric looked relieved at her intuition, knowing that upon seeing Courtney, Sonny would most likely fall apart and not wanting the officers to see it he nodded. "Thank you, doctor."

She nodded and handed him a package that held gloves. "Put these on," she directed. "Pull the sheet back to her shoulders, no further and try not to touch anything. Take as much time as you need," she added, stripping off her gloves and tossing them into a hands-free garbage bin. The look she leveled the two cops bade they follow her without a word and the three stepped through the doors leaving the two brothers alone.

Sonny mechanically pulled on his gloves and, before Ric could step forward to do it for him, pulled the sheet back to reveal the person's features. A sob ripped from his throat as he recognized his sister and Ric closed his eyes as tears threatened to spill. Some part of him had been hoping it was not Courtney, but it was.

"Jesus," Sonny whispered, looking away.

_She looked so peaceful_, Ric thought tearfully. Courtney looked as though she was sleeping, her thick blonde eyelashes lying at the tops of her high cheekbones. Her platinum blonde tresses were fanned on the slab. The only indication of her plight was the horrendous bruise along her throat and the faint blue tinge of her lips.

Although they'd rarely seen eye-to-eye, linked only by Sonny, he knew how important she was to their family and she certainly hadn't deserved to die the way she had. Ric turned to his brother to see his shoulders shaking as he cried silently. He belatedly realized that tears were running down his face as well. The two men fell into each other's arms, holding each other as they sobbed their loss.

It wasn't long before they pulled away and tried to regain their composure. Ric scrubbed at the evidence of his tears with the back of his jacket sleeve. Sonny did the same. "You ready?" Ric asked his brother after swallowing a lump the size of a goose egg that had lodged in his throat.

Yes, Sonny nodded, straightening his clothing as well as his features.

Ric opened the door and looked out to see that Taggert and Garcia were gone and Dr. Hart lounged patiently against the wall. "It was her," was all he said, amazed at the calm in his voice.

"Ok," Louisa replied. She set her square wire-frames back on her nose and followed them into the room. She donned her gloves and picking up a clipboard and pen from the holder mounted on the wall, handed it to Sonny. "You need to sign that the body has been verified as Courtney Matthews as well as to give me permission to conduct an internal autopsy."

Sonny did as she asked, quickly signing his signature at the appropriate points. "When will her body be released to us?" he asked.

"I'll have completed my examination before the end of the day. I'll rush the tox-screens for you, Mr. Corinthos, and be able to legally release her body to your care in two days."

"Thank you, doctor," he replied and walked away without another word.

"I apologise for him, but..." Ric trailed off with a heavy sigh and wiped the fatigue from his eyes.

"No," Louisa shook her head and held up a hand. "It's completely understandable."

Ric nodded in acknowledgement and made to follow Sonny out.

"Mr. Lansing?"

"Yes, Dr. Hart?"

"About Rhys Samuels, you had asked for his body to released as soon as possible?"

Ric closed his eyes. In his grief for Courtney, he'd all but forgotten about the other man who'd died, a man who had no one to care for him. "Oh, yes...."

Louisa's green eyes were sympathetic. "I can have my assistant arrange something for you."

"Thank you; it's greatly appreciated," he reached into his briefcase and handed him a card with his contact number.

"No problem," Louisa replied, accepting the card. Ric moved to turn away but, for some reason, Louisa didn't want to stop talking, even under the circumstances. "I truly am sorry for your loss."

Ric nodded, looking at her intently, wishing he'd met her under much better circumstances. Imprinting her image into his head one last time, he turned away and walked out.

Down in the bullpen, Garcia watched with a thoughtful frown as Sonny, with Johnny in tow, quickly left the headquarters. Ric followed not long afterwards, his eyes downcast as Max walked ahead of him. As the doors closed behind him, he swiveled in his chair back to his partner, who was sipping a cup of coffee as he perused the morning newspaper.

"Any word on Morgan?" he asked.

Taggert looked up and shook his head. "Nope... word is that the Corinthos' are looking for him, too."

"Think _he_ did it?"

"Morgan's a robot. He wouldn't do something unless Sonny ordered him to. You saw Corinthos' reaction – do _you _honestly think he would put a hit out on his own sister?"

"Just bouncin' theories around," Garcia defended himself.

Taggert grimaced, setting his cup of sludge down. "All we've got is _theories_," he said, his frustration evident, "and as far those go, we've got jack-shit. Some part of me was _convinced_ that Corinthos had a hand in it, but now... it's obvious he's not."

"So, basically we're back to square one."

"Not really."

Garcia and Taggert looked up to see Lucky hovering over their desks.

"We got a hit on the man the kid described," he explained, holding the picture aloft. "Anonymous call came through when you two were in the basement – identified the man as one Edward Yates. Pulled his records of the 'net and guess what? He's a former Special Forces 'Nam vet."

Taggert grinned. "Best news I've had all morning. Good job, kid."

Both brothers were staring off into the distance when Sonny's cellphone rang. Checking the caller-ID, he recognized Benny's number and he answered quickly. "What d'you got?"

"The picture's been ID-ed."

"And?" Sonny prompted, rapidly losing his patience.

"His name's Edward Yates, ex-Special forces."

"Who does he work for?"

"You're not gonna believe this, but he used to do jobs for Rocco Taggliatti."

"Joe Taggliatti's father?" Sonny asked incredulously.

"The one and only."

"Who does he work for now?"

"No one. They fished him out of the river just now."

TBC...

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. I've introduced a new character in this chapter. It was purely unintentional, but I can see her character being woven into more situations and I think it's time to give _my _Ric Lansing (who I adore in my story, but loathe on the show) a love-interest. I crave feedback, so please let me know what you thought.


	31. Chapter 31

Show: General Hospital

Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 31

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for last chapter's comments; I really appreciated each and every one.

X-X-X-X-X

"And my fucking day just keeps getting better and better!" Taggert cursed.

He and Garcia were standing on the riverbank as the EMTs loaded the gurney on which lay a black body-bag into the ambulance for transportation to the morgue. It was barely seven o'clock in the morning and any progress they thought they had made through Yates's identification was all shot to hell.

"Spencer!" he practically bellowed to the junior officer currently interviewing the witness that had spotted the body in the water.

"Yes, sir!" Lucky quickly excused himself and jogged over to his superior officers.

"Any more information on Yates?"

"No," Lucky replied, shaking his head. "That guy over there," he continued pointing over to the witness, "says he thinks he knows who he is. He hangs out on the docks all the time. He's a regular at Jake's."

"Good. Take another uniform with you to Jake's and see if you can find out what Mr. Yates does – _did _– for a living," Taggert ordered.

X-X-X-X-X

Instead of heading straight back to Harborview, Sonny instructed Johnny to take them to the warehouse where, when he strolled into his office, he found Benny waiting. "Talk to me," he instructed, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it into the corner.

Benny nodded quickly at Ric in greeting before launching into what he had learned. "Ed Yates used to work for Rocco Taggliatti years ago before the old man got taken out." He handed the file to Ric, who perused it whilst listening. "He was never on the official payroll, only Rocco's right hand man Johnny Scissors and probably Joe Taggliatti knew about him. He was hardcore Special Forces – they didn't use him for the petty jobs," he continued in explanation.

Sonny leaned back in his chair, absorbing this information. "So he gets recalled for this vendetta and then offed because Zico IDed him?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Question is, by whom?" Ric asked, setting the file down.

"That's what I was wondering. I did a little more digging. Turns out that Rocco Taggliatti's widow bore him _two_ sons."

"What?" Sonny perked up. This was news to him. Joseph Taggliatti had never mentioned a brother.

"Delano Taggliatti was Joe's kid brother. A real character apparently. He lived with his mother in the City but got hustled out of the country when he became a problem. Seems to have dropped off the face of the earth."

"Dropped off the face of the earth my ass!" Sonny spat, his eyes burning as he looked at his fact-finder. "Find him!"

X-X-X-X-X

On the docks at Jake's, the lady herself was trying to be helpful as Lucky showed her the photo of Edward Yates. "Gee, for such an ugly guy, he's sure got a lotta people lookin' for him. Someone just asked me the same thing."

Lucky lifted an eyebrow, knowing Taggert was not going to like that. That 'someone' was more than likely inquiring on Sonny's behalf. "Do you know this man?"

"Yeah, sure, I know him. Don't know his name, but I'd sure as hell remember a fella with a mug like that," she explained as she wiped down the counter.

"You know anything about him? Like where he works or where he lives?"

"Nah... like I said, kid, I don't even know his name. He comes in, orders Bud and chain smokes Marlboros."

"Alone?"

"Used to be, but recently, he started hanging out with this little bald guy."

Lucky's interest was immediately pricked. "How recently?" he asked.

"Up until a few days ago." She paused, a frown between her brows. "Come to think of it, that's _him_, right there," she pointed into the dark smoky interior where a nondescript man was cozied up to an over-painted under-dressed woman. "He came in not too long before you two. Cheap bastard," Jake muttered. "Buys _one_ beer – well _two _todaybecause he's got that floozy with him – but _always_ tap. He makes it stretch and hogs my damned table space!"

Lucky's gaze honed in on the man, who was far too occupied with running his hand up the expanse of the woman's leg to realize he was being watched. Lucky's eyes swung back to Jake and he flashed the Spencer smile and hoisted himself up on his hands to peck her cheek. "Jake, darlin', you are an angel!"

Lucky motioned the other officer to follow him and the two quickly left the bar, leaving Jake chuckling to herself, "Like Father, like son!"

X-X-X-X-X

Marsha was cooing appreciatively in his ear (read:- performing better than Meg Ryan and her 'orgasm' in "When Harry met Sally") as Lyle ineptly stroked her underneath the booth's table when a shadow fell across them. Both sprung apart guiltily as they recognized Detectives Taggert and Garcia glaring down at them.

"Lyle Turner," Taggert began. His eyes flicked to Marsha who looked like she'd rather be anywhere but here.

"Detective Taggert... Garcia, when did you get back into town?" he added, flicking his gaze to the other man.

"Who's your _girlfriend_?" Garcia asked, with a trace of humour in his tone as he blatantly ignored the man's question.

Marsha shrunk away, knowing Garcia recognized her from the many times she and her fellow ladies of the night and (evidenced by the present moment) _day_ had spent in the jail cells at headquarters.

"Nobody," Lyle blurted quickly.

Marsha didn't take any offence, simply scooted to the edge of the booth, teetering on her super-high platform heels as she struggled to pull the tube-top that served as a skirt down her thighs. "See ya, Lyle," she said, hurrying through the bar and out the door faster than should have been possible.

Lyle looked after her as though she had abandoned him in the lion's den and as Taggert and Garcia made themselves comfortable, Taggert opposite him and Garcia next to him, he felt as though she truly had.

"So," he began, his eyes darting back and forth between the two men, making him look like the weasel he was, "what can I do for you, detectives?"

Taggert smiled, but it was entirely predatory. "First, you can tell me what your relationship is with Edward Yates." He held up the sketch.

Lyle paled and his eyes bugged further. "I don't know who you're talking about, Detective," he lied, in what he hoped was a convincing manner.

"C'mon, Lyle," Garcia jostled his shoulder hard enough that the other hit the wall hard. "You know...? Your drinking partner."

"I swear, I don't know who you're talking about," Lyle cried, rubbing his shoulder.

"Didn't your years in Pentonville teach you that you really shouldn't lie to a police-officer?" Taggert asked, sounding like a scolding parent.

Lyle's mouth fell open and for a moment, he looked more like a guppy than weasel.

"You know, Lyle," Garcia said conversationally, "The Corinthos' were looking for Yates, too, but guess what? We fished him out of the river this morning."

Lyle gulped.

"Jake told us where to find you. If she told _us_, can you _really _see her not telling the Corinthos soldier when next he comes in here looking for info?" The threat was left hanging in the air.

Lyle's thoughts were all in a jumble. _Yates was dead!_ Obviously, he'd been identified. Had Corinthos done it, or had Delano snapped and have someone take him out? If the latter was so, what was to stop Delano from snuffing out the only other true link to Yates they had?

"Ok... ok!" he conceded, his hands in the air. "I'll talk. But if I do, you gotta protect me! Just the two of you. He's got people in the force on his payroll and if he finds out I'm talkin', my life, and therefore my _testimony_, ain't gonna be worth shit!"

X-X-X-X-X

Ric was on his way out of the warehouse when he spotted Marco, one of Sonny's guards, coming towards him. "Did you find anything on Jason?" he asked, pausing on the bottom of the stairs.

"No, Mr. Lansing. But we're digging. We'll find him."

Ric watched him walk up the stairs to his brother's office before heading outside. Max was waiting by the limo to take him back to the apartment to pick up his messages and his car. For obvious reasons he and Alexis had closed their offices. He was going to change his clothes and then drive over to Harborview – he really didn't want to be alone.

On the ride to his apartment, he leaned his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes. _God, _he was tired! The events of the last several weeks were really starting to take their toll on everyone and, with this latest attack, he wasn't sure they would be able to survive. Sonny, who always took death hard, was now barely hanging on by a thread. He was trying to be strong for Alexis and the children, but failing miserably in coping for himself. Now, with Jason's disappearance and the constant worrying of what his fate was, was making things worse.

Ric spared a thought for Courtney, his eyes once again filling with tears as he thought of her stretched out on that cold metal slab in the sterile identification room. She'd looked as innocent as an angel, as a sleeping child. Someone had snuffed out her life and for what? Retribution for a man who had taken what hadn't belonged to him in the first place? Life wasn't fair. Thinking that the same fate could be awaiting Jason was enough to put ice-water into his veins. Sonny had already described Elizabeth's state before she'd keeled over in exhaustion. He knew how much he meant to her. If they found Jason's body, he knew that his niece would never recover.

Ric sighed, his thoughts strayed from Courtney and Jason to Port Charles's ME. Dr. Hart was probably busy conducting Courtney's internal examination now. Despite these sobering thoughts, thinking of her eased the pain in his chest a little. He immediately shook those from his head... now was most definitely not the time.

X-X-X-X-X

Jason's head lolled to the side as he sat in the cold unforgiving chair in what was his cell. He'd more than suffered a concussion but he was feeling, of all things, around his pain, _hunger._

"Wake up!" a voice commanded directly beside his ear.

Jason's bloodshot blue eyes snapped open to find Delano grinning sadistically above him. "Sleeping in the middle of the day?"

Not that Jason had any concept of what time it was anyway.

"Curious about this morning's papers?" Jason looked up, no expression on his face whatsoever. Delano had grown used to it by now – it irked, but he didn't lose his temper like before.

"'MOB PRINCESS FOUND DEAD IN APARTMENT'" he turned the newspaper so Jason could see the screaming headline in the feeble light. With his throbbing headache, Jason couldn't muster the strength to make out the words. "Shall I continue?" Delano asked, as he heard Jason's breathing start to speed up, the only sign of his true feelings. He gave a blow by blow of the report, enjoying every second of it. When he was finished, he clasped his hands behind his back and his smile reminded Jason of a wolf.

"Wonder how your _family's _holding up. The unflappable Sonny Corinthos," he spat the name as if it tasted foul in his mouth. "The super sexy Alexis.... _Elizabeth_." Jason's jaw clenched and he ached to wipe that smirk off Delano's face. "The grief for her beloved aunt must be killing her... her concern over you.... What kind of promoter would I be to be in town and not look in on my charge?" he asked silkily.

Jason snapped. "If you touch her, I'll _kill_ you, you sonofa_bitch_!" Jason railed, throwing himself, chair and all, at Delano.

Delano laughed as Jason's chair off balanced and he fell to the floor. He slammed a handsome hand-stitched Italian shoe into Jason's ribs, thoroughly enjoying it as hiss breath left his body in a wheeze and a cough. "That's where you're wrong, Morgan," his voice like a winter wind. "_I'll _kill _you_... and I'll make her watch me do it...."

X-X-X-X-X

"Tea?" Alexis posed the question, holding out the mug as she stood in the doorway of the guest bathroom in PH4. The phone had been ringing nonstop since the press had broken the story. For piece of mind, Alexis had turned off the ringer and all calls had started going straight to the machine.

Elizabeth looked up at the reflection of her mother in the mirror. She smoothed her dark cap of hair and wiped the moisture from her freshly scrubbed face. She was in a much better state that she had been a few hours ago, but her cobalt-blue eyes were still haunted.

"Sure, thanks," she accepted the steaming mug from her mother and took a sip of the fragrant liquid gratefully.

"Are you hungry?" Alexis asked, smoothing her daughter's hair.

"Not really... you?" Elizabeth asked in reply.

"No."

Liz took her next breath on a sniffle and she could feel tears pricking the back of her eyes. She met her mother's gaze and realized that she too was on the verge of crying. Elizabeth set the mug on the bathroom counter and Alexis pulled her into her arms. "I'm so worried," she sobbed, her shoulders shaking. "Where is he? What if something happened to him?"

Alexis had no answers to those questions, a fact that made her feel even worse. Elizabeth was trying so hard to pull herself together and the struggle was threatening to overwhelm her.

After a while, they pulled away, Alexis wiping the tears from her daughter's shattered face. Elizabeth did the same for her. "We're going to find him," Alexis said, hope infused in her voice. "And then we're going to find the bastard who did this to our family and make sure that he pays for all the pain he put us through."

Elizabeth's spine straightened at the steel in her mother's voice. And she nodded vigorously. "For Courtney," she said softly.

"For _family_," Alexis reiterated.

X-X-X-X-X

"Ok, we got you someplace safe, now _talk_." The order came from Garcia and there was none of the usual underlying humour in his tone.

Lyle's eyes darted back and forth. He was in a room at the Port Charles Hotel, no less, sitting at an escritoire in one of their rooms, a rather ominous tape recorder sitting in front of him. ADA Jensen sat across from him, arms folded across her chest, a frown marring her pretty face; Commissioner Scorpio sat next to her; Taggert stood behind Dara and Garcia was leaning over the table, skewering Lyle with his gaze.

"As soon as I'm done, I'm outta here, right?" he asked, for the millionth time.

Dara's frown deepened. "Until it's time for you to testify, yes."

He gulped at the word 'testify'.

"We don't have time to fuck around, Turner," Taggert all but growled. "Quit stallin' and start talkin'."

Mac reached across and hit the record button. All the preliminaries had been taken, so he simply said, "State your name for the record, please."

Once again, Lyle debated the wisdom of his actions but chose treason over death. "My name is Lyle Turner. About six weeks ago, I went to New York City. I was meeting with the brother of my former boss, Joseph Taggliatti...."

X-X-X-X-X

A knock sounded at the door before the knob turned and Francis, who was on duty in the absence of Johnny and Max, stuck his head through the crack.

"You have a visitor," he addressed Elizabeth, who sat on the couch, watching Zico and Kristina play a half-hearted game of jacks. "I could get rid of them if you want," he added empathetically, knowing that his charge was not in the best of states.

"Who is it?" Elizabeth asked, getting to her feet.

"Mr. Toreno," he replied.

Elizabeth was a little surprised to hear the name, and for a moment said nothing.

"Do you want me to get rid of him?" Francis asked softly.

She seriously debated letting him do so, but she had to see other people eventually. If she was to show the world that she was staying strong through this awful tragedy, she had to start _somewhere_. "No, it's fine. Let him in."

"Ok," Francis conceded. He stepped back and opened the door wider, allowing Daniel to walk past him into the apartment.

"Elizabeth..." Daniel began, the sympathy practically dripping from his voice. "I'm so sorry."

Elizabeth smile was weak. "Thank you, Daniel."

Francis shut the door behind him, a strange unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, having let the wolf in sheep's clothing right into the center of the flock....

TBC...

A/N: I really wanted to get this chapter out sooner, but was unfortunately unable to do that. It's winding down... not much to go. I think at least five more chapters. Thanks for all the support and don't forget to drop me a line or two.

Cara


	32. Chapter 32

Show: General Hospital

Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 32

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: It completely slipped my mind how long I was working on this story. It's over a year old. This time last year, I thought I would be on the third installment or, considering how quickly Part I was written, on the _fourth _installment. Anyways, I apologise for the slow and sporadic updating that has become characteristic as of late, but hopefully, you'll all think of it as _quality _over _quantity_. Thanks for last chapter's comments; I really appreciated each and every one of them. Don't forget to review! Enjoy!

X-X-X-X-X

Jason was frantic with worry.

Delano's last words to him were reverberating in his head. He was not worried about his threat to his life. All his worry was focused on what that sick bastard intended to do with Elizabeth.

Taggliatti/Toreno, whoever the fuck he was – Jason's concussed mind was too foggy to work out the logistics – had left him alone again in his dark cell a while ago. In addition to losing all sense of feeling in his arms and legs, and the throbbing in his ribs where Delano had continuously kicked him, he'd lost all concept of time. It was all the same to him. Knowing Courtney was dead, being away from Liz and knowing that sonofabitch intended to hurt her in some way was abject torture for Jason.

He struggled against his bonds for the millionth time since he'd regained consciousness. With the same result – he was stuck.

Just then, the sliding door opened and an ominous figure appeared. From the height and broad stature of the figure, Jason surmised that it was not Delano returned to torment him. It was someone else and Jason was dismayed to feel his worry mutate into a fluttering sense of panic low in his stomach as the person started walking toward him.

As he neared, Jason hoped he'd wiped all sense of feeling from his face and flicked cold blue eyes up to meet his new visitor.

"Mr. Taggliatti sends his regards." Bruno Destang's voice held a trace of a Brooklyn accent.

Jason's eyes narrowed not just at the man's words, but also upon recognizing Destang as one of the security guards at Elizabeth's gallery showing. "Mr. Taggliatti is a dead man walking," was Jason's glacial reply.

Destang's smile was equally as cold and much more deadly. He shrugged off the heavy leather jacket he was wearing, revealing broad shoulders, thick beefy biceps and a sturdy utility belt studded with twelve wicked looking knives, ranging in size from 2-8 inches long. He pulled the smallest of the knives from its sheath and held it up. It glinted in the feeble overhead light. Jason's eyes followed its ascent and then his eyes met Destang's. No reaction. Destang's smile widened. "He asked that I get you ready for your guest."

Jason took a quick breath of restraint and braced himself for the pain, mere seconds before Destang sank the knife into the fleshy socket between his shoulder and chest.

X-X-X-X-X

"How are you?" he asked, heading towards her and pulling her into his arms.

It was an awkward hug and she was glad when he pulled away to study her face. She was pale, shell-shocked and he loved every single second of it.

"I'm fine, considering," was her quiet reply.

"Do they have any clue as to who did this?" Every question was that of a concerned acquaintance.

"No," Elizabeth shook her head and wiped the fatigue from her face.

"I'm sure your father and Jason are out looking." So sly. He delighted in it as her head snapped up at the mention of Morgan's name.

"Yes," she swallowed deeply and looked away.

Obviously she was lying, but she'd never reveal that her father's Enforcer was missing.

Just then footsteps could be heard and the two looked up to see Alexis coming down the stairs. "Mr. Toreno," she said, as she turned surprised brown eyes in her daughter's direction.

"Ms. Davis," his smile was apologetic. "I'm sorry to intrude on your family time. I thought it would be remiss to leave Port Charles without sharing my condolences."

Alexis nodded in understanding and scooped Kristina into her arms and settled her on a hip. Zico, as was now his habit, went to stand beside her, wrapping an arm around her slender waist. He turned clear amber-coloured eyes on Daniel, as Alexis's hand reached down to stroke his coal-black hair.

Daniel's eyes narrowed minutely as the boy stared unwaveringly at him. He matched Cross's description of the boy who had identified Yates to the police. "Is this Michael?" he asked smoothly, knowing full well that it wasn't, but interested in how the future Mrs. Corinthos or her daughter would answer anyway.

"No," Alexis replied without a falter. She gave no further details, showing Daniel why Sonny had seen her as such an asset – physical attributes aside.

"When's your flight out?" asked Elizabeth, steering the conversation away from dangerous territory.

Daniel would give them an A for their skillful maneuvering. "Four," he lied, equally as smoothly as either woman, managing just barely to tear his gaze away from Zico. He wanted to leap across the small distance that separated them and crush the boy's windpipe.

"I'm going to take the children upstairs," Alexis said, wishing he would leave. "Thank you for stopping by." Without waiting for a reply, she took Zico's hand and headed up the stairs.

Zico still kept his gaze on Daniel's until he disappeared from sight. As they reached the top of the stairs he turned to Alexis. "I don't like that man," he whispered softly in Greek.

Alexis's eyes were sober and she nodded. "Me neither," she replied. She needed to know why.

X-X-X-X-X

"Jesus Christ!" Garcia cursed, wiping the fatigue from his face. "Did you just hear the same things come out of that weasel's mouth as I did?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I did," was Taggert's dry reply.

"And we're helping that little fucker get away with conspiracy to commit murder."

"We're helping the Corinthos'," disgust dripped from Taggert's tone. "You heard Turner, Jason Morgan offed Joseph Taggliatti."

"A crime of which we, unfortunately, have no proof."

The two detectives turned to see ADA Jensen walking towards them.

"Fuck the proof!" Taggert predictably exploded. "You heard him."

"Lyle Turner's word is not good enough on that count."

"But it's good enough now?" he asked bitterly.

Dara didn't bat an eyelid. "Yes. He's finished," she continued. "You two can escort him wherever it is that he's supposed to be going for the moment."

"Not so fast." Mac entered the conversation, coming out from the suite's living room and shutting the door behind him. "We still gotta find Taggliatti. Turner can help us do that."

"That was not in the specifications," Dara balked.

"To hell with the _specifications_, Ms. Jensen," Mac replied. "He's still out there and Jason Morgan's still missing. Put two and two together."

"He'd be doing us all a favour," Taggert muttered, not as quietly as he thought he had.

Three pairs of pissed off eyes swung to him.

"I'll pretend I did not just hear that statement, Detective," Mac said. Taggert clenched his jaw but remained mercifully silent. Mac turned to Dara. "I want this to be an open and shut case as much as you do. Turner is a weasel. One look at him and you can tell. In other words, the _jury _will be able to tell and any decent defense lawyer will be able to poke holes in his story and prove to the world that he'd only croaked in order to save his ass. I want irrevocable proof and _he_," he pointed beyond the door, "is the only way to get it."

Dara took a deep breath and conceded. "Fine. Get me that proof and _fast_. Preferably _today_. If Taggert's hunch that the Corinthos' are digging for info, if you don't watch his back, both Turner and Taggliatti could be dead by nightfall."

The three police officers watched Dara as she let herself out of the hotel suite, her words circulating ice-water in their veins.

"She's right," Garcia admitted reluctantly. "If we don't find Taggliatti first, he's a _dead_ man."

X-X-X-X-X

He couldn't feel his arm.

It was no tingling numbness.

He truly could feel nothing.

In the feeble overhead light, he could see the blood dripping profusely from the wound Destang had inflicted on his shoulder. It was long and deep and, if he looked close enough, he could see the ivory of his shoulder bone beneath a red river of blood. It had hurt something fierce when Destang had slammed the blade home a short time ago.

But now, all the feeling was gone.

This was bad... Very bad.

Because, if he didn't get to a hospital within the next twelve hours, the damage would be irreparable and he would have to lose his arm.

X-X-X-X-X

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Daniel asked.

"Yeah... I have my family."

He wanted to vomit at that word.

"Yeah, you stick together, don't you?"

On any other day, she would've recognized the sarcasm in his voice, but she failed to this time. "Umm," was her simple reply.

"You don't look so good." His statement was genuine, tinged on the fact that, despite all the baggage, she still held him spellbound. "Would you like to take a walk?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened at this suggestion. She thought of all the reporters that would try to barge into her private moments, demanding to know how she felt, as if they had the right, simply because her family tragedy was news-worthy. "No... I don't think that's such a good idea," she said softly. "It was very good of you to stop by, Daniel, but I'm exhausted, and I'd like to try and get some semblance of sleep."

"Ok," he recognized a brush off when he saw one. "Of course, Elizabeth," he pulled her close again, savouring the feel of her slight frame against his, the smell of her hair. He kissed her forehead, remembering for the last time the softness of her skin. "Take care of yourself," he said.

_Not very likely_, he thought as he exited the apartment, furious that he hadn't been able to lure her out of her tower. Despite the baggage, despite the hold she had on him, the next time he saw her, he would kill her.

X-X-X-X-X

"So, you got my ticket?"

Lyle asked the question as Taggert, Garcia and Mac reentered the living room. He still sat at the desk, hands clasped before him, his rodent-like eyes darting back and forth between the police officers.

"Not quite," Mac said, taking charge of the situation. "Before you get on a plane anywhere, you gotta do something else."

"Something else?" he squeaked. "I ain't gotta do nothin' else, Commissioner. I already told you everything I know."

"Not quite." He clasped his arms across his chest. "Where's Taggliatti?"

"I dunno, Commissioner. I swear on my mother's grave!"

Garcia snorted. "Why do I think your mother wouldn't appreciate that analogy, Turner?"

"It's simple, Mr. Turner," Mac said, his voice deceptively reasonable. He reached into his pocket and continued, "You tell me where to find Mr. Taggliatti," he held up a plane ticket, "and I give you your ticket and turn you over to the marshals until the trial date."

Lyle's eyes zeroed in on the ticket. "And if I don't?" he had the audacity to ask.

Taggert picked up the recorder and removed the tape. "Then your testimony becomes anonymous and I cart your ass to jail... and arrange for you to be held in the same cell as your boss."

"So, Turner," Mac slid his cellphone across the desk, "what's it gonna be?"

Lyle picked up the phone and dialed.

X-X-X-X-X

Just around the same time that Mac was grilling Lyle for Delano's present whereabouts, Benny had strolled back into Sonny's office, where he found his boss staring into space.

Sonny looked up and took a deep breath before demanding, "What did you find?"

"Delano Taggliatti was carted out of PC at age fourteen. He relocated with the Taggliatti widow in New York City. Two years after that, he was relocated with his mother's people in Palermo. After that, it's a mystery. There's no record of him."

"I didn't ask you for his fuckin' history, Benny, I wanna know where he is _now_!"

Benny should have been used to Sonny's frequent outbursts, but he still quaked at this latest explosion of temper.

"I got in contact with our people in Italy. Mr. Delfino knows of the mother's family. He's expecting your call today."

Guiseppe Delfino was one of Sonny's contacts in Italy. He and his family were another faithful cog in Sonny's network, which, Taggert would break out in hives if he even had a whiff of a clue, was not based solely in the Eastern United States, much less the small town of Port Charles, New York. Guiseppe was an old-school _capo_, who knew all the gossip. If Delano Taggliatti had 'disappeared', Delfino would know where he was hiding.

Sonny nodded in satisfaction and, when Benny closed the door behind him, picked up the phone and dialed Italy. As it was Delfino's private line, it was answered quickly, Guiseppe's wisened voice coming over the line.

"Signore, Corinthos," he greeted respectfully.

"Signore Delfino," Sonny replied.

"My condolences on your family tragedy."

"Thank you, signore Delfino."

"These are difficult times we live in."

"Yes, they are. I understand you have some information that would be useful in helping me locate the man that did this?" Sonny asked, dispensing with the expectant pleasantries.

"Ah yes, the Taggliatti boy."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know, signore Corinthos, but I can tell you who he chose to become after the families chased him out of Italia."

Despite the main goal, Sonny's curiosity was pricked. "Why did you want him out of Italy?"

Guiseppe's laugh was bitter over the line. "He ran territory for his mother's family, the Vittoris," he explained. "Let's simply say, young maestro Taggliatti had, what you Americans say... sticky fingers with money and a happy one with the trigger? He stole from his own family and made the mistake of stealing from the others. Blood is thicker than water – his uncles got him out of the country. I had him followed to America, New York City. I found him and would have taken action but his uncles assured me he would not be a problem – they paid the fines and I promised to leave him alone."

"He changed his name?"

"His name had always been changed, signore. After his escapades in the United States, it was a liability to have the Taggliatti name attached to him. I only knew him by one name."

"What name is that, Guiseppe?"

He unwittingly dropped a bombshell. "Daniel Toreno."

TBC...

A/N: I know it's cruel and unusual punishment to leave it here, but it'll leave you panting for more, right? It wasn't intentional – purely accidental – I was blocked for the moment. I need some ideas – tell me how you want this to progress and I'll try to work it in. Thanks for reading... dontforget to review!!

Cara


	33. Chapter 33

Show: General Hospital

Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 33

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for last chapter's comments. Like I said, the story is winding down, I don't know exactly how long it will take to finish, but I should be finished by the end of the year. Are Sexis fans hoping that both Sonny and Alexis will stop being such idiots and at least become friends again? I know I am. And are Liason fans hoping that Jason snaps out of it and returns to Liz? It's a no-brainer, right? Read and enjoy!

X-X-X-X-X

"Delano."

Delano frowned as the voice registered in his brain. "What is it, Lyle?" His voice was frustrated and annoyed, his fury at being unable to get Elizabeth to leave Harborview, less than latent. He sat in a cab, ironically, driving back to 'Daniel Toreno's' room in the Port Charles Hotel, where he'd sit and stew a little longer before heading back to the warehouse and checking up on Destang's handwork.

Lyle's eyes widened as he struggled to come up with a lie that would not make Delano suspicious. "I'm callin' to see if you saw the papers," he floundered.

Lyle's statement brought a ghost of a smile to Delano's face. "Oh yes, I did," he replied with a grin. "In fact, I'm gonna have it framed, _and_ double the big fat donation I'd promised to give," he joked, without a semblance of guilt.

"Ha, ha," Lyle's laugh was uneasy. "Did you show Yates?"

His only reply was a harsh crack of a laugh. "Check the afternoon edition of the news, Lyle. I didn't pay him to fuck up… not when I'm so close to getting Corinthos," he hissed in cryptic explanation, the last part so quietly that the cabdriver could not hear him.

"Did you _off_ him?" Lyle asked in mock surprise.

"What do you think, Lyle? I course I did, and I'll do it to anyone else who fucks with my plans," was Delano's frosty reply.

Lyle gulped as he listened to Daniel's admission.

"Is that all, Lyle? I've got more important things to do."

"No…" Lyle floundered again, as Garcia urged him to keep talking. Taggert was speaking in hushed tones with a tech-head back at PCPD headquarters, who was currently trying to triangulate Toreno's phone signal. "I've seen Corinthos' people crawlin' all over the docks," he continued in a rush. "They had Yates's picture and they were flashing it all over the place." He decided to take creative license. "Everyone's starting to talk; the PCPD were like ants in Jake's, questioning everybody. I overheard one of the cops… he said they think Morgan's missing…." He trailed off, hoping Delano would drop a crumb, as Mac nodded in encouragement.

"Anyone talk to you?" he asked instead.

"No," Lyle lied. "I hightailed it outta there as soon as I could."

"Then good. I'll call you when I have something for you."

Before Lyle could say another word to stop him, Delano snapped his phone closed.

As his cab headed further back downtown, Delano sat back and let this latest piece of news wash over him. So, the PCPD knew Morgan was missing, or at least _thought_ he was. This would work in his favour. He knew the Corinthos camp would be crippled, not only with the loss of Courtney, but because their number one Enforcer was nowhere to be found. He wanted this to be over as soon as possible. He would call Corinthos that very night.

Back in the room at the hotel, Taggert cursed as Lyle shut Mac's cellphone.

"Did you get anything?" Garcia asked.

"Marsha's tracking his signal right now. She was also recording their conversation; I was hoping he'd admit outright he had Jason."

"At least we got his confession that he had Edward Yates murdered. That's murder-one," Garcia pointed out.

"For now, even if we don't have him on the record for killing the rest of those men and Courtney, that'll have to be enough," Mac said. "Was she able to track him?"

Taggert relayed the question. "Yeah, the GPS on his cellphone has him heading this way."

Lyle gulped as he belatedly realized that Delano had a room in the hotel.

"Relax," Garcia ordered with a roll of his eyes. "He's not gonna know you're here."

"Listen," Mac said, slipping on his suit jacket, "I'm gonna go find Dara. Get someone up here to watch him," he instructed, pointing at Lyle. "Stake out Taggliatti. The second he leaves this building again, follow him. My gut tells me he'll lead us right to Morgan."

X-X-X-X-X

_Hour ten._

Time was a factor, and Jason knew he didn't have a lot of it.

Destang had just left him alone again, after inflicting a few more wounds on his person. One of the knives had found its way home into his other shoulder, renewing the pain he'd felt before his entire arm had gone numb. The darkness was disconcerting but he knew what his first wound looked like. In the feeble overhead light when Destang was with him, he'd caught sight of it. His arm was red with the blood that dripped from his wound. The blood had long since dried, but the wound had puckered and he imagined, if he could, it would smell of more than just dried blood.

The motor functions in that arm were next to nothing. He knew if he didn't get to an operating room soon - he didn't know how much time he had left - his arm would be useless.

To make matters worst, Destang had done the same to his _other _arm. There was a tingling that was gradually fading. He had punctuated the wound by punches that had slammed into his chest like jackhammers. It hurt to breathe, each breath wheezed like a winter wind and he imagined his chest was bruised.

The clock had started.

Tick. Tock.

Time was running out….

X-X-X-X-X

"That _sonofabitch_!" Sonny cursed, pacing the length of his office like a caged animal.

Johnny and Francis exchanged dubious looks. Their boss had gotten off the phone with Signore Delfino a mere five minutes ago and had told the two guards what he'd revealed. Francis, especially, knew he was angry and couldn't help feeling a little guilty. After all, he'd been Elizabeth's guard, and when she'd started seeing more of 'Toreno', it had been his job to check up on him. Apparently, he hadn't done a good enough job.

Sonny was beside himself. He'd looked Daniel Toreno in the eyes, had shaken his hand, had thanked him for giving his daughter the break that she so richly deserved, he'd thanked his lucky stars when Francis had revealed that he and Elizabeth were more than just business acquaintances, had smiled with him, laughed with him, talked _politics_ with him. He'd _trusted _his first-born, his _family_ with that man, never even _suspecting_ the threat that he was.

He turned to his guards, pinning them with his eyes. "Where is he?"

Francis spoke. "He met with Elizabeth at the Port Charles Grille yesterday. She said he was staying overnight in Port Charles. I assume he spent the night at the Hotel."

Sonny grit his teeth and turned to Johnny. "Any more news on Edward Yates?"

"Gino just got back from Jake's. She told him that Taggert and Garcia picked up some lowlife who was a friend of Yates's."

"Get any names?"

"No, but it looks like he knew something. They took him in."

"He's at PCPD now?"

"Nah, Gino followed up. He said Mac and Dara Jensen hightailed it out of Headquarters."

"Do you know where they were going?"

"Yes. Port Charles Hotel."

Sonny nodded and grit his jaw. "Good. Francis, I want you and Adam to head over there and see what's up."

"Adam's still staking out the docks," Francis pointed out, referring to the other guard's waiting to catch up with Zico's kidnappers.

"Get him off! That can wait!" Sonny growled.

"Sure," Francis nodded and left the room, fishing out his cellphone on the way.

"Get my brother on the phone," he instructed Benny, who'd been lurking in the corner. "Tell him to start preparing a defense. When I find Taggliatti, I'm gonna fuckin' kill him!"

X-X-X-X-X

"Yes, Eldon," Alexis said with a tired sigh, "the wedding plans will definitely have to be postponed." She paused as Laura Spencer's former right-hand man and current wedding coordinator said something else. "Thank you for your concern and for calling. Goodbye." She set the phone on the hook and turned around.

"Has it been like that all morning?" Ric asked the question from his vantage point near the balcony.

"Yes, since I turned the ringer back on." She crossed to the couch and sat down. "Mike called from the plane. He said he should be here in about another four hours."

"How's he holding up?" he asked, thinking of the man who had lost so much already and now had lost the daughter he'd only found a few short years ago.

"As well as can be expected." She looked upstairs, envisioning Elizabeth who was keeping the children entertained in their playroom. A few months ago, she'd nearly lost both her daughters, she couldn't _begin_ to comprehend how Mike was feeling right now. "They haven't been able to find Courtney's mother. Mike said Courtney hadn't heard from her in almost a year."

"Have you heard from Sonny?"

"No," Alexis shook her head. It was after ten and he had left more than five hours ago. He had, she knew, thrown himself whole-heartedly into the search for Jason and into finding out who had done this.

"I'm sure he'll check in soon." No sooner had he said that than his cellphone rang. His forehead wrinkled, he excused himself and answered quickly, "Lansing."

"Ric," it was Benny.

"Yeah."

"Listen, we've got a lead on Taggliatti."

"Really?"

"Yeah, listen," Benny broke in. "Where are you?"

"Harbourview, why?" he asked, glancing back at his partner, who'd settled herself on the couch.

"Head back to the office and start preparing a defense."

"What?" he asked incredulously. "Why?" he turned his back when Alexis looked at him questioningly.

"Delano Taggliatti is none other than _Daniel Toreno_."

"Say no more." He snapped his phone shut and turned to Alexis. "Listen, I gotta go. I'll see you in a few," he said hurriedly.

"Wait, Ric-"

But he was already gone.

X-X-X-X-X

"Taggliatti has just entered the building," Officer Marsha Delgado whispered into her set as a man matching Toreno's description strolled into the lobby up to the desk and pocketed his cardkey.

It had taken some fancy legalese by Dara to get the warrant and some lightning quick tech skills, but Marsha had installed the bugs in a few choice places in Taggliatti's room. All they had to do was sit back and let him hang himself. But, that was preferably _after _he told them if he knew where Jason Morgan was.

"Good," Garcia replied, in her ear. "Stay where you are. Let us know which direction he's heading."

"Sure thing," she replied, continuing to 'read' her newspaper.

Upstairs in his room, Delano shrugged off his jacket and smiled as he read the newspaper article again. Life was good. From their vantage point, two doors down, Garcia and Taggert shook their heads as they took in his obvious glee. "That is one cool cat," Garcia said, disbelievingly.

They watched as he fixed a drink and loosened his tie. Plopping onto the couch in his suite, he picked up the telephone. "Destang," he said, when the person on the other end picked up, "how's it going?"

"Fine," was the curt reply.

"He folded yet?" he asked, not really expecting a positive answer.

"No, Morgan's as cold as they come."

"Got him!" was Taggliatti's gleeful shout.

"How much time has he got?"

"Less than ten on the first, under twelve on the other."

"Good. You know what to do. I want him barely coherent by the time I get there."

"When is that?"

Delano checked his watch. "In another couple hours."

"He'll be bleeding out by then."

"Make it last. I'll see you then." He terminated the call and downed the rest of his drink.

"Jesus, what the hell are they doing to Morgan?" was Garcia's tremulous whisper.

Taggert had seen a lot in his career, but he had a feeling that when they finally caught up to Morgan, this would be a trump.

X-X-X-X-X

_Hour nine_

When next the door slid open and the feeble overhead light snapped on, Jason could barely lift his head. It was Destang as was expected.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Morgan?" dark humour laced his question.

Jason's reply was the same – that steely, disconcerting blue-eyed stare that had not wavered despite his beating.

Destang chuckled. "I've got a present for you." He lifted the knife and held it up to the light, so Jason could see it, then lowered it again to his side.

It was a game they'd been playing for the past few hours. Jason knew what was coming next and braced himself for the pain.

Destang's smile was sinister. The knife swung up in a graceful arc and slammed into his belly. Jason screamed for the first time in years as Destang dragged the knife across, practically gutting him.

"Enjoy."

Jason blacked out.

TBC…

A/N: A little gory at the end, I apologise if it made you queasy. I hope you enjoyed nonetheless, and drop me a line or two or twenty (lol) to let me know what you thought.

Cara


	34. Chapter 34

Show: General Hospital

Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 34

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Every time I write a violent chapter for my story, I always cringe when I hit the 'upload' button on I worry that the violence may be too graphic, that I might offend someone and that they will stop reading or (gasp) that they'll report me for abuse and I'll be kicked off the site. I'm happy to report, however, that the only complaints I've been getting are the ones about me taking too long to post and hoping that I type fast, lol. Thanks. The reason the chapters are so violent is because, they _are _in the Mob, and Mob vendettas aren't pretty – anyone who's seen 'The Godfather' series would know what I'm talking about. Readers are warned – it won't get prettier. If this sort of material offends you, you shouldn't read it.

X-X-X-X-X

Hour seven 

Destang checked his watch. Two hours had passed since he'd gotten his orders from Taggliatti, two hours since he'd executed them.

In those two hours, he'd watched Jason Morgan's disposition deteriorate. There was blood everywhere. It was dripping from his arms and from the gaping wound across his midsection. Destang had been careful. The wound had not been deep enough to gut Jason but it was bleeding profusely; with each second that passed, more and more of Morgan's life essence dripped uselessly onto the damp floor of his cell. He was growing steadily paler and had begun to shiver in his chair. His head lolled boneless and his ice-blue eyes had become glazed with pain.

Still he said nothing. Aside from his initial scream when Destang had dragged the knife across his flesh, he hadn't made another sound. Destang found himself in perverse admiration of the man and, not for the first time, wondered if Jason Morgan really was a robot.

Destang glanced at his watch again. He had less than seven hours before he lost one arm, just over nine before he lost the other. A smirk crossed his lips… that was of course, if he didn't bleed out before then.

X-X-X-X-X

"I need a cigarette," Detective Alex Garcia announced, pacing back and forth in the hotel room they'd acquired for their surveillance.

His partner Marcus Taggert glanced at him in surprise. "I thought you'd quit."

"I _did_, but this waiting for Taggliatti to fly the coop has me climbing the walls," he admitted, dragging a hand through his wavy dark hair.

"Oh," Taggert grunted in reply. He, too, was nervous. His hands literally twitched with the desire to pick up Taggliatti, but he knew that if they acted prematurely, they might never find Morgan. He didn't like the man, couldn't _stand_ him in fact, but he didn't want to have his death on his conscience.

The two were alone in the room. Mac hadn't returned and the marshals had escorted Lyle to his safe house about an hour ago, whilst Taggliatti had been lounging in the living room in his suite.

Taggert tapped his pen against the workstation where the surveillance screens were set up and took a sip of his fifth cup of coffee. On the screen, he saw Delano Taggliatti down a couple more scotch and sodas before heading into the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he emerged, steam billowing behind him, a white towel wrapped around his waist, his dark hair still dripping. He headed for the closet and pulled out a sharp looking dark grey suit and a crisp white dress shirt, no tie. As he dressed and sat to put on his socks and shoes, Taggert grimaced – Taggliatti's suit alone was probably worth two months of his pay.

_He's a narcissistic bastard, _Taggert observed, watching as Taggliatti gave his dapper appearance more than a cursory glance of approval in the bedroom's full-length mirror. He half expected Delano to blow a kiss at his reflection, or strike a GQ pose. Taking note of his observations, Taggert filed them away in his mind for his inevitable confrontation with him.

"Looks like he's getting ready to head out," he announced, watching as Taggliatti gathered his cellphone, a set of keys and placed a laptop computer into a snazzy looking crocodile skin briefcase.

"Team one, Taggliatti's on the move. Keep on him," Garcia instructed into his walkie-talkie, coming up behind his partner as they watched Delano exit the room.

"Copy that," was Marsha's reply from downstairs in the lobby.

"Let's go," Taggert suggested, grabbing his jacket.

X-X-X-X-X

"I make _her_," Francis pointed discreetly at the woman sitting on one of the lounges in the lobby. She had a perfect vantage point – she could see whoever came and went in the elevator or the stairs and whoever left the building through the front door. "She hasn't turned a page of that newspaper in the past ten minutes."

"Maybe she's a slow reader," Adam replied, checking out the woman in the corner of his eye.

Francis frowned and shook his head. "She's a cop. Gino was right, something's up."

The two men turned at the sound of footsteps heading towards them and found one of their counterparts, the mini giant Gino, heading towards them. "I slipped the concierge a twenty. She says that Daniel Toreno has been registered for the last two days. When he went to get his key he told her he would be checking out later this afternoon. He's gonna bolt, Francis. For another twenty, she admitted that the PCPD booked a room about four hours ago, called the manager, served a warrant and bugged Toreno's room."

"So basically, they know that bastard's every move," Francis surmised. His fists instinctively clenched. Knowing how close Taggliatti had come to his charge in the last few hours had a fire boiling in his gut. He wanted some payback for Elizabeth and for all the havoc he had wreaked in the past few weeks. But in order for them to do that, they had to get to Taggliatti _before _the PCPD picked him up.

Before he could voice his opinion, however, the lady cop folded her paper and made a show of digging through her purse. Just as she did so, Daniel Toreno/Delano Taggliatti, strode past her, heading toward the front door.

Her lips began moving ever so slightly, confirming Francis's suspicion as he flipped open his cellphone. "He's moving, Marco, follow the bastard," he instructed.

X-X-X-X-X

"Something's up," Alexis announced, as Elizabeth quietly shut the door to the room where Zico and Kristina were currently napping.

"What makes you say so?" Liz asked her mother, her brow wrinkling in confusion.

"I just _know_ it, Elizabeth," she replied, as they made their way downstairs into the living room. "My gut tells me so. Your _uncle_ knows, which means your _father _knows and _neither_ of them is telling us what's going on."

"Wait," Elizabeth paused her mother with a restraining hand on her arm. "Do you think they have a lead on where Jason is?" she asked, the hope in her voice barely disguised.

"Not only do I think they have a lead on where Jason is, but I think they might actually know who is doing all of this," Alexis continued, thinking of Ric's abrupt departure. "And instinct tells me, it has something to do with Daniel Toreno."

X-X-X-X-X

A shiny black sedan was waiting for him as he left the lobby. Destang was behind the wheel and Delano tossed his briefcase in before him and slid into the luxury of the soft leather interior.

"How is he?" he asked, without preliminaries.

"Bleeding out, slowly but surely," was Destang's quiet reply, as he pulled into the busy traffic.

"Good." Delano took the laptop from the briefcase, logged on to the Internet and quickly accessed a site. "I'm wiring the money into your account now," he told Destang. "Check your phone for confirmation."

Sure enough five minutes later, there was an electronic beep and a message on his cellphone that fifty thousand dollars had just been wired into his account. Destang's grin was sinister. "I'm sure Corinthos thinks that his baby sister was worth more than fifty grand."

Delano echoed his grin. "I'm sure."

Destang's cold brown eyes met his employer's in the rearview mirror. "I could put Morgan out of his misery for another hundred grand," he proposed, ever the businessman.

"I'm sure you would, and the temptation is indeed great but _Morgan_, he's all _mine_."

"Suit yourself," Destang replied. "The gun's in the packet slot in front of you," he instructed.

"No need for it," Delano said softly. "I paid a visit to a friend of mine. I've decided to go the _medicinal_ way."

Not even wanting to speculate on what that could mean for Jason, Destang said nothing, concentrating on the road, driving just below the speed limit so not to draw more attention to the already sleek noticeable car. As was habit, he continually alternated between glancing into the rearview mirror to the traffic behind and the road in front. His eyes narrowed as he glanced into the rearview mirror. "I think we're being followed," he announced quietly.

"What?" Delano looked back quickly.

"Don't look!" Destang hissed in caution. "That car's been following us since we left the hotel. It's got unmarked police car written all over it."

"Why the fuck would they be following me…? Lyle! That _fucker_! He's a _dead _man!" was Delano's fiery outburst. "Lose 'em!" he practically screamed in command.

"Already on it," he replied. They had been approaching an amber light but, instead of slowing, Destang hit the gas, slipped in front a yellow minivan and a blue compact and through the lights. He grinned - they'd slipped past the cops but, basking in the glow of having outfoxed the cops, he didn't see that the rider of the silver and blue Kawasaki ninja-bike that had also sped through the lights behind him had stuck a tracking device onto the back bumper of the sedan.

"Got him," Marco said, popping a wheelie before turning right and heading back downtown.

"Good work," Johnny replied from a black SUV sitting behind the PCPD cars in traffic. "We'll take it from here."

Sonny nodded curtly in the backseat as he slipped the loaded magazine into his gun.

X-X-X-X-X

"Damnit! We lost him!" Taggert cursed.

"He made us," Garcia pointed out the obvious.

"We gotta catch him!" Taggert said, reaching beneath his seat for the siren.

"What the hell are you doing?" Garcia asked. "If we flash it to the world we're lookin' we'll never find him!"

"He already knows we're looking!"

"If you do that, he'll never lead us to Morgan!"

Taggert grit his teeth and smacked the dashboard in frustration.

"Go, the light's green," Garcia instructed. "Calm down, Marcus. He's most likely heading for the docks. We'll catch up to him there!"

"The docks cover ten fucking square miles! It'll be like looking for a needle in a haystack! You're right, Alex," he continued sarcastically, "we don't need to follow them cause, Taggliatti's gonna disappear like smoke and we can just wait a few days before someone complains that the docks smell like decomp because Jason Morgan will be _dead_!"

TBC…

A/N: I became blocked after this and I didn't want to wait too long to get this chapter out. I hope you enjoyed, so click that pretty blue button in the bottom left corner and tell me what you thought!

Cara


	35. Chapter 35

Show: General Hospital

Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 35

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: The response to the last chapter was wonderful and very encouraging. It won't be long before this installment comes to an end and it might be a little while before Part III is up, although I have the major plot already in the works. Thank you for all your encouraging comments over the year that I have been working on this story, especially **LiasonFan2**, my muse and sounding block as well as these other dynamite ladies: **Sea'Wana, Underscored, Nette, Marla, Sonnybeans, writerchickie, luvr, Claire, Luv2rite, chawkchic, LightOfTheDays/Tink** – you are all _amazing_! I hope I didn't forget anyone, but HAPPY NEW YEAR to all my readers!

X-X-X-X-X

"I know something is going on, Sonny."

Sonny grimaced as he listened to his fiancée's voice over his cellphone. "What are you talking about, Alexis?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

Back in PH4 Alexis frowned and looked at her daughter, who was watching expectantly. "Don't play games."

"I'm not playing games, Alexis," he replied, trading a look with Johnny in the rearview mirror.

"Don't _lie_, either," she shot back.

"Alexis, I –"

"Do you know where Jason is, Sonny? The _truth_, please," she broke in.

"Alexis –"

"_No_," she broke in again, knowing somehow that he would try to evade her question. "It's bad enough that you've included Ric and completely _excluded_ Elizabeth and I. Now, answer the question. _Do_ you _know _where Jason is?"

Sonny sighed but replied truthfully. "Yes, Alexis, we know where Jason is."

Alexis breathed a sigh of relief and nodded to Elizabeth who closed her eyes in gratitude and collapsed onto the couch. "Where is he?"

"We're following Taggliatti right now."

"_Taggliatti_?" asked a very confused Alexis. "_What_ are you talking about, Sonny?"

"It's a long story, _corazon_. Listen, I really can't talk now. I'll explain everything when I bring Jason home, _safely_."

"_Wait_, Sonny!" she called before he could hang up. "Tell me something, is Daniel Toreno involved in this somehow?"

Sonny's voice became glacial when he heard that name. "In more ways than you know, _corazon_. In more ways than you know…." He terminated the call, leaving Alexis to ponder his cryptic statement.

X-X-X-X-X

"Ok, calm down, Marcus," Garcia instructed his partner. "Let's just stop and think about this for a while."

Taggert took a frustrated breath, but forced himself to do as his partner had asked.

"Alright, what do we know?" Garcia asked, speaking into his microphone. "Taggliatti's heading for the docks, presumably to finish Morgan off, right? Marsha, where is Joe Tagglatti's territory?"

"Sir, Joseph Taggliatti's territory was completely taken over by the Corinthos' after his death," Marsha pointed out.

"That's not what I asked you, Delgado. Where is Taggliatti's territory?" he asked again.

They could hear the tapping of keys as Marsha quickly accessed the information in the city's database. "His territory extended from Pier 40 to Pier 50, sir. That's an area of approximately 1.5 square miles."

"Good, now add that to the territory owned by the Corinthos' and the other three crime families."

Marsha did as her superior asked. "That takes care of another seven and a half square miles."

"The docks extend for ten square miles," Taggert pointed out. "Who owns the other square mile, Delgado," he asked, seeing where his partner was going with this line of questioning. "No, wait, let me guess, the Quartermaines, right?"

"_Yes_, sir."

"How'd you guess?" Garcia asked his partner.

"Anytime the Quartermaines need a little cash, they sell off a little piece of their waterfront property. Usually, it's under the table. But I'll be willing to bet that they sure as hell didn't sell anything to Sonny, and the other families wouldn't do something like try to expand their territory and risk getting on Sonny's bad side. So, the majority of the buildings they own are empty. If Taggliatti's holding Morgan, I'll bet my paycheck that he's holding it in a building that the Quartermaines previously owned."

"You hear all that, Delgado?" Garcia asked. "What part of the docks do the Quartermaines own?"

"Already on it, sir. The Quartermaine property extends from 160 Freemont Road to Pier 40."

"We'll start there, closest to Taggliatti's property," Garcia instructed.

X-X-X-X-X

"When this is over, I have another job for you," Delano said to Destang as the sedan pulled into the garage of the warehouse.

"Let me guess, Lyle Turner, right?"

"You're psychic," was Taggliatti's sarcastic reply.

"He's probably in protective custody," Destang pointed out the obvious. "It won't be cheap."

"I'll give you seventy-five grand to get rid of that fucker! No one double-crosses me and gets away with it!"

"Done," Destang replied simply.

"Good." Delano took out his briefcase and strode down the corridor. The time was ticking for Morgan and he hadn't come _this _far only for some traitor and the damned PCPD to rain on his parade.

It was time for Morgan to die.

X-X-X-X-X

"He's on Quartermaine property," Francis announced, checking the tracking system in his hand.

Sonny frowned. He made it his business to keep track of the waterfront and he knew that very little of the waterfront supposedly owned by the Quartermaines was still owned by the family. He was in the territory he had just acquired from Taggliatti, which bordered the last of the land that the government officials thought the Quartermaines owned. Any bet, Taggliatti had bought the land and kept it quiet not just from the law but from Sonny and the other three families.

"Just keep following him," Sonny instructed. "I want to be long gone before the PCPD get a clue and start sniffing around."

X-X-X-X-X

Morgan wasn't far from death.

Taggliatti could smell it and the metallic scent of blood as Destang rolled back the door and he stepped into the room. He smiled and reveled in the imminent death of his enemy, which would bring him one step closer to fulfilling his goal.

"Morgan?" he called.

Jason didn't reply.

Delano allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness before striding to the just visible shadow in the center of the room. He snapped on the feeble overhead light. He was pleased with what he saw. Morgan's head lolled lifelessly to the side – he seemed to have passed out. His grey T-shirt was covered in blood. The two wounds on his shoulders were darker and he knew that the arms would become useless in a matter of hours. The wound across his belly was not deep, he knew, but had bled profusely. Even now, little rivers of blood were running. "Good work," he commended the hit-man, who had come to stand by his side.

"Thank you," Destang replied, admiring his work with pride.

"He isn't dead, yet, is he?" he asked, hoping the latter was so.

"No," Destang replied, but he checked the pulse at his neck to prove it. "Just passed out from the pain."

"Wake him up, then," Taggliatti instructed. "I want to finish the job."

Destang shrugged and, grabbing Jason's hair, slapped his cheeks repeatedly to draw him out of unconsciousness.

Jason's eyes fluttered opened reluctantly. The blue irises were dilated in agony. The pain was so immense that he had no clue of anything beyond it.

"How nice of you to rejoin us," Delano spoke, the good nature in his voice, grating on what was left of Jason's nerves. "I'm here to do you a favour." He reached into his syringe and pulled out a syringe and a bottle of fluid. "Don't worry Morgan, it won't hurt any more…" he said silkily. "I'm here to put you out of your misery."

X-X-X-X-X

"You sure this where he stopped?" Sonny asked Francis, taking in the empty surroundings of the warehouse building.

"Positive," Francis replied, crossing to show his boss on the screen the blinking red light that represented Taggliatti's sedan. "See, 141 Mullholland Street. That's where _we_ are," he pointed to a street sign.

"So, where's the car?" Sonny asked the next most obvious question.

"In here, I bet," Johnny replied. He'd been scooping out the building and he noted what looked like the entrance to a garage. He slid the door open and, sure enough, there was the car.

"Let's go," Sonny instructed. "But leave Taggliatti to _me_."

X-X-X-X-X

Destang frowned suddenly. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Delano asked, as he loaded the syringe.

Destang strained to hear more, but nothing else reached his ears. "Nothin'," he finally replied.

"Paranoid much, Destang?" he asked, with a slight laugh.

Destang kept a hand on his weapon, still. "What is that?" he asked his employer as Taggliatti pumped the syringe, making sure the tip was full.

"_This_, my friend, is Succinylcholine. A muscle relaxant," he explained. "In _small _doses, that is," his laughter was a diabolical bark. "But at _this_ dose, when injected, it'll shut down Morgan's organs and he'll suffocate himself."

While Taggliatti was speaking, Delano _knew_ for certain this time, that he was hearing things he shouldn't. But, before he could remove his weapon, Johnny rounded the corner, Sonny hot on his heels. Johnny's bullet slammed into his chest before he could call out a warning.

At the sound of the gunshot, Taggliatti turned in surprise, only to see Sonny Corinthos and his guards, all their weapons trained on him. "It's a pity you won't get to use that," Sonny announced.

X-X-X-X-X

"Is that what I think it is?" Garcia asked, trepidation running down his spine.

Taggert didn't bother to answer. "Dispatch, shots fired! Repeat, shots fired! Address, 141 Mullholland Street."

"Shit!" Garcia cursed, pulling up to one of the buildings. A black SUV was parked and a door lay wide open, displaying the rear of the black sedan they'd been following. "How the hell did they get here before us?"

"I think that is the _last _thing we need to worry about!" Taggert replied, vaulting out of the vehicle and heading for the building.

X-X-X-X-X

In a suicide move, Delano reached for the gun that he'd taken from the car.

Sonny didn't hesitate, squeezing the trigger. Delano cried out as the bullet slammed into his shoulder and the gun, which he'd managed to get a hold on, clattered to the floor. His bullet whizzed uselessly into a wall.

"You're a stupid man, Taggliatti, just like your _brother_," Sonny said, squeezing the trigger again as he advanced on the younger man. The bullet slammed into Delano's leg and he collapsed to his knees.

"Oh, God," Taggliatti was mumbling over and over, as the pain exploded in his body.

Sonny reached him and with the tip of his shoe, pushed Delano flat onto his back, his shoe pressed into his throat. "You know, your _brother_ begged God, too," Sonny revealed. "Say hello to him when you see him," he pointed the gun to Taggliatti's skull, just as the PCPD burst in.

X-X-X-X-X

"Drop it, Corinthos!" Garcia commanded, his gun trained on the Mob boss. "You don't want to do anything you'll regret!"

Sonny pressed his foot harder into Taggliatti's throat, further cutting off his oxygen supply as the younger man writhed beneath him. "This will be something I most definitely will _not_ regret, Detective," was his cold reply, as the gun he pointed to Taggliatti's head did not waver in the slightest.

"I said _drop _the gun, Corinthos!" Garcia commanded again. "You, too!" he continued, referring to Francis and Johnny, who had their weapons trained on the police officers. "You're already in enough trouble as it is!"

"I was merely defending myself, Detective," Sonny replied, his brown eyes focused entirely on Delano's.

"You _defended_ yourself already, Corinthos! Now, you have _five_ seconds to drop that gun before you join him on the ground!" Garcia warned. "_Five_… _four_… _three_…."

Sonny's eyes narrowed in displeasure, but he stepped away from Taggliatti and, relocking the safety, dropped his gun to the floor. Johnny and Francis followed suit.

"Kick them toward me," Garcia instructed, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief, knowing that if he had shot Sonny, Goon 1 and Goon 2 would have returned the favour and they wouldn't have been shooting to maim. "Hands where I can see 'em!"

Satisfied that his partner had things under control for the moment, Taggliatti rushed to the shadowy figure slumped in the chair. What he saw made him light-headed. Morgan wasn't moving and there was blood everywhere. From Taggliatti's taped conversation with Destang, he knew that what they would find was not going to be pretty, but nothing could have prepared him for this. "Jesus!"

Sonny's jaw clenched, knowing that the situation was dire. What little he had been able to see of Jason wasn't good either.

"Dispatch, this is Detective Marcus Taggert, I need EMS to 141 Mullholland Street ASAP! Hurry!" Taggert holstered his gun and frantically felt for a pulse.

There was none….

TBC…

A/N: I know I'm cruel to leave you with a cliffhanger. I hope you enjoyed and that it leaves you salivating for more! Drop me a line to let me know what you thought!


	36. Chapter 36

Show: General Hospital

Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 36

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: I know that it was cruel of me to leave you with a cliffhanger _and _make you wait so damned long for the next chapter, so I apologise. I was also seriously blocked, so I'm not very comfortable with this chapter, but I decided to hammer it out. Other than that, I'm very pleased with the response I received – no flames, yay! Just comments that I am evil – I loved them, lol. Keep 'em coming! BTW: I'm a kid – I have no medical expertise whatsoever; my sum knowledge includes cleaning a cut with alcohol and a plaster bandage – thus I'll gloss over any medical stuff.

X-X-X-X-X

"Twenty-six-year-old male, multiple stab wounds –!" the remainder of the paramedic's medical mumbo-jumbo faded into insignificance as they barrelled over the threshold into the Emergency Room of General Hospital. He was holding on to a saline line whilst his partner sat astride the patient, performing CPR.

Taggert followed quickly behind, watching as Bobbie Spencer and the doctor on call rushed to meet the gurney.

"Oh, God!" he thought he heard Bobbie exclaim, as he continued to stare nauseously. There was blood everywhere, but he could not look away.

"Detective? Taggert, what happened?" Bobbie asked, catching sight of him, staring entranced at the gurney. The PCPD was not far behind. The call had come in over the radio, so she had been prepared for the patient, but not for seeing the face of the man she loved like a son looking so pale and close to death.

"No time for those questions, now, Spencer," whoever the doctor was snapped impatiently.

"Right," she replied. Bobbie shoved away her personal interest and slipped into nurse mode, mechanically doing as the doctor instructed, all the while helping to roll the gurney into one of the ERs.

Taggert tried to follow. Bobbie caught sight of his attempt and immediately blocked him. "What're you doing?" she asked icily, knowing Taggert's propensity to start trouble. "You can't come in here," she said, placing a firm hand in the centre of his chest.

It was instinctive to argue, but he recognised that that was impossible and, with him hovering over their shoulders, he would be far more a nuisance than help. "Do you know when he'll regain consciousness, Bobbie? I have some questions that need to be answered."

"He's not going to be awake for a good while, Detective, and having your questions answered is the least of my priorities, right now. Wait outside," she insisted, pushing him away from the door.

"_Shit…_"

It was the on call doctor who had cursed. They had cut off Jason's bloodstained T-shirt, fully revealing the three deep and festering stab wounds Destang had inflicted. Instantly, Bobbie's head whipped around to see what was the matter.

"How long ago was he stabbed?" the doctor demanded to know, looking around the paramedic who was still performing CPR.

"Taggert?" Bobbie asked, struggling to hold him back. "How long ago was he stabbed?"

"I don't know…. _Jesus_, what's happening?" he asked, straining to look around the nurse, as the medical equipment Jason was hooked up to shrieked around them.

"He doesn't know!" Bobbie yelled back to the doctor. "_Listen_ to me, Detective, you need to step back," she ordered firmly. "Let me do my job."

Without further preliminaries, she shoved him away and let the automatic door slide shut between them before she hurried to Jason's side.

On the other side of the door, Taggert watched as the staff rushed around in the room, trying to keep Morgan alive. Resigned to his fate of waiting, he stepped away, scratching his baldhead as he headed for the nurse's station. He had reached for the telephone to call the station just as the other EMS team burst through the doors, Garcia not far behind. It was the gurney that held Delano Taggliatti, who was thrashing and shrieking with pain on it.

Another doctor rushed to his aid and Garcia instructed various uniformed officers to stake out Taggliatti and never let him out of their sight. That task complete, he headed over to his partner.

"How's Morgan?" he asked, turning his eyes to the crowded ER.

"We'll see," Taggert replied, turning to face the room as well.

"Corinthos is not happy. I can imagine when Alexis Davis gets wind of this, there'll be hell to pay."

He was referring to the fact that they had arrested Sonny and his bodyguards before Jason and Taggliatti were transported to the hospital. Sonny had exploded, after trying to be reasonable – he would turn himself over to their custody, _after_ they allowed him to go with his friend to the hospital and make sure he was fine.

Needless to say, both Detectives had refused.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," was Taggert's reply. He crossed over to the other room, where Delano Taggliatti was being taken care of. "Right now, I'd prefer to keep Taggliatti alive."

Garcia came to stand next to him, his eyes trained on the figure of the man as he thrashed on the bed. "If Morgan dies, Taggliatti's a dead man."

Taggert's jaw clenched. "It doesn't matter if Morgan dies or not… Taggliatti already is."

X-X-X-X-X

"I couldn't make them stay." Max was quick to apologise to Ric and Benny as Elizabeth and Alexis barged into Sonny's office at the warehouse.

Benny looked nervous, and couldn't meet either woman's gaze. Her partner said nothing but nodded knowingly. Alexis surmised that Ric was definitely the better poker player.

"Where is he?" she asked Benny, the weaker of the two, her voice deceptively calm.

"Ah –" he was interrupted by the chirp of Alexis's cellphone.

She narrowed her eyes on her prey even as she fished out her phone and answered. "Alexis Davis."

"_Ms. Davis, we have a bit of a problem."_

It was Johnny.

The hair on the back of her neck immediately stood on end and she turned worried eyes on her daughter.

Elizabeth, too, could feel deep in her gut, that something was terribly, terribly wrong. "They found him, didn't they?" she asked, her voice whisper soft.

"Did you find him?" Alexis asked, keeping her eyes trained on Elizabeth.

"_Yes."_

In the near silence of the office, they could all hear Johnny's reply over the line.

"Then what's the problem? Where are you?"

Back at PCPD Headquarters, Johnny looked back to the holding cell where Adam, Francis and Gino were being held. Sonny was in the interrogation room. _"PCPD, ma'am. We've been arrested."_

Alexis cringed, and wiped the fatigue from her face. "Why? Where's Jason."

"_Mr. Corinthos is out for blood, Ms. Davis," _he explained hastily, completely ignoring her request to know where Jason was. _"Taggert, as usual, wouldn't listen to reason. He slapped a charge of resisting arrest on Mr. Corinthos on top of the rest."_

"Johnny –"

"_Mr. Corinthos is going to go ballistic if we don't get outta here soon, Ms. Davis."_

"He's hurt, isn't he?" Elizabeth's voice cracked on the last and her eyes were shiny with tears threatening to spill over, as she waited for a reply to her mother's question.

"I will be there," she replied forcefully, "but I'm going to ask you one more time, Johnny. Where is Jason?" Alexis asked again, tears stinging her own eyes as she watched her daughter start to unravel before her eyes.

The guard hesitated before answering her question. _"General Hospital."_

"Elizabeth!" Ric yelled as his niece whirled on her heels and out the door.

X-X-X-X-X

They all sprung into action as Elizabeth's rapid footsteps could be heard pounding down the stairs that led to the warehouse floor. Ric was the first to reach her, leaping the final four steps and vaulting in front of her, catching her shoulders in his hands and forcing her to stop.

"No!" Elizabeth protested, hot tears of fear streaming down her face as she struggled to get away from her uncle's hold. "Let go of me, Ric!"

"Elizabeth, calm down!"

"_Don't_ tell me to calm down! He's hurt! I have to get to him! I have to make sure he's safe! Oh, _God _–" she broke off on a ragged sob and Ric pulled her fully into his arms just as the others reached them.

"It's okay, _querida_," he crooned softly into her hair, as she literally soaked his shirt with her tears.

"No… it's _not_ okay," Elizabeth moaned, clutching his shirt in her fists. "Something's _wrong_, Ric, I can feel it!"

"We aren't going to accomplish _anything_ if you fall to pieces," Ric said, in a painfully logical tone.

Alexis sighed heavily and laid a hand on her daughter's shoulder in comfort. "Ric's right, Elizabeth…."

Elizabeth took a deep censuring breath and stepped away from her uncle, wiping the tears from her face in the process, all the while knowing that they were right. She closed her eyes and turned to Max, who'd been waiting expectantly. "Take me to him."

X-X-X-X-X

The world slowed to a crawl for Elizabeth as Max pulled the limo up to the ER entrance of General Hospital and opened the door for her. With each step she took toward the automatic entrance, her heart became leaded with fear. All the sounds faded into the background and the rest of her senses were attuned to one thing only: _find Jason._

Lucky, who had known Elizabeth for so many years, saw her first and instantly recognised the signs. Elizabeth was in full-on actress mode. To the world, she seemed unruffled but, with one look into her blue eyes, he knew that she was really terrified.

Scanning the area, she realised it was crawling with the PCPD. She spotted Alex Garcia at the nurse's station and numerous nameless faceless uniformed officers were stationed at various points, including Lucky, who was stationed outside the entrance to one of the ERs. Thankfully, Taggert was nowhere in sight.

Garcia spotted her at the same time. She stood near to the entrance, flanked on side by a beefy bodyguard, her uncle on the other. Her mother was not with her – he assumed that she was down at the PCPD already giving Taggert hell.

Unlike the other night, she didn't look like a deer caught in the headlights. Her roving gaze was purposeful and she stood tall as she looked around the busy rooms. Catching sight of him, she headed toward him, and Garcia internally braced himself.

"Ms. Corinthos," he greeted, as pleasantly as he could, considering the situation.

"Where is he?" she asked, without the false pleasantries.

Before he could reply, the elevator dinged and Bobbie Spencer stepped off. Abandoning her interrogation of Garcia, Elizabeth hurried over to the older woman. "Bobbie! Bobbie!" she hailed.

Bobbie turned at the sound of her name, not surprised to see Elizabeth rushing towards her.

"Elizabeth," she greeted tiredly, hugging the petite woman to her.

"Do you know what happened?" Elizabeth asked, not surprised that she could feel tears gathering in her eyes. "Where's Jason?"

By that time Ric and Max had made it to her side. Ric wrapped an arm around his niece's shoulder, equally as concerned. Garcia hung in the back.

"Jason stopped breathing en route to the hospital," she explained clinically to the small group. He crashed again in the ER, but the doctor was able to stabilise him for the moment. We just sent him up to the ER, and they'll try to repair the damage."

Elizabeth had blanched as the nurse explained Jason's condition and she could feel her knees weakening.

"What the hell happened?" Ric demanded to know, clutching Elizabeth's slumping body to his side.

"When we found him, Morgan was in pretty bad shape," Garcia explained, thinking that his description was the understatement of the year. "He was stabbed three times and was bleeding out."

Ric's jaw clenched, as he imagined the torture Jason had gone through.

"Who did this?" Elizabeth whispered in horror, struggling to stay upright on her own.

Ric's eyes met Garcia's and both men knew this would hit her hard. Ric, of course, knew the true relationship Elizabeth had with both men.

"_Tell_ me!" she demanded, taking note of the police officer's obvious hesitation.

"The hit on your aunt and Jason's abduction was ordered by Delano Taggliatti. A man _you _know as _Daniel Toreno_."

TBC…

A/N: Short, I know, especially after you've waited five months, and I'm going on hiatus until June. Feel free to hate me mentally – please not verbally – and let me know what you thought.

Cara


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